


Yours (Sequel to His Property)

by neganslucilletblr



Series: His Property [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Bondage, Choking, Daddy Kink, Dean Winchester Smut, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Heartache, Masturbation, Oral, Orgasms, PTSD, Past Sexual Assault, Protective Dean Winchester, Public Masturbation, Public Sex, Romance, Sex, Smut, Spanking, Therapy, Use of Safe Word, breath play, dom!Dean, p in v, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-10-17 18:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20625377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neganslucilletblr/pseuds/neganslucilletblr
Summary: It’s been 9 months since Dean admitted his feelings and became yours. Things are going well, but the past has secrets and secrets have consequences.





	1. Vanilla

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to "His Property"

_“You’ve been mine all this time, but baby, what I’ve been too scared to admit is I’m yours. I’ll always be yours.” _

** _  
Nine Months Later_ **

  
Your ass felt on fire as it was struck yet again. You hissed, whole body jerking away. 

“Oh fuck,” you squealed, hands clenching into fists as your wrists instinctively tugged on the ropes that held your arms above your head. Your whole body swung a little from the impact of the hit, your feet stretched up to your tiptoes. 

“Hm, looks so pretty, darling,” you heard his low gravel voice wash over the back of your shoulder, the heat of his breath fanning over the shell of your ear and leaving goosebumps in its wake. You shuddered in response. His mouth opened, teeth grabbing a large chunk of muscle that connected the base of your neck to your shoulder. It sent electric straight through your core, a heavy heat pooling between your legs, tingling throbbing through your clit. 

“Five more,” he told you. You whimpered. Five more was five too many. The next strike stung enough to make tears prick behind your eyes. You screamed loudly, tears escaping and trickling down your cheeks. The second was as bad as the first, but on the other cheek so now both throbbed so hard you could feel your heartbeat in the muscle. “Think you can take three more, sweetheart?” he checked, you still couldn’t see him, could only see the pale grey wall ahead of you but you sniffled, tried to relax and nodded. You couldn’t fall at the last hurdle. “Sure?” he asked, “what’s your colour?”

“Green, Sir, please,” you agreed. Although you knew green was ambitious, with how overly cautious he is nowadays, he wouldn’t continue if you said orange, and you wanted more. 

“Alright…” he sounded unsure, but you knew you could take it, and you knew he trusted that you knew your limits. He did too, all too well. Every goal he set, every number he gave was the perfect amount. One more would have you screaming your safe word, one less would leave you somewhat unsatisfied. 

One more spank landed on your right cheek, you felt the climax bubbling in your stomach and you knew you were going to cum without him even touching you. These orgasms were the most powerful. The next spank landed on your left cheek and was enough to send you over the edge. Your legs gave way but thanks to your restraints, you were still standing, swinging slightly from the rope as it kept your arms above your head. As you came around, panting and cursing under your breath, you realised you hadn’t asked permission to cum. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you gasped still breathless. Your clit was throbbing painfully, pussy clenching around nothing as your climax trickled between your legs. 

“Don’t apologise, baby girl, you deserved it,” he praised. “Ready for your last one?” he checked. You nodded, drawing a deep, shaky breath as the paddle struck one last time. And just like that you were done. You couldn’t bare the thought of another hit, but it was enough that you knew you didn’t want more. 

Dean circled around to your front as you saw him for the first time since you started your session. His green eyes were warm and soft as he looked at you. He stepped forward, his hand going to the back of your head as he pulled you into him a little closer and kissed you lovingly. 

“You did so well, sweetheart,” he praised against your lips, his fingertips coming up to gently brush away the tears. “You’re getting better and better,” he commented. His hands reached up and carefully untied the knots that kept you in your place. As they grew slack he made sure to wrap an arm around your waist to support your weight. Your arms dropped and you automatically wrapped them around his neck feeling him lift you into his arms. He kissed you passionately as he lay you down on the cool, soft mattress, climbing over you. Your legs carefully wrapped around his waist, fingers running through the back of his short hair.  
  


“Ready for me?” he asked softly. You nodded your head instantly. This had been your favourite part over the last few months. Dean reached down between you, lining himself up and pushing in slowly. You moaned loudly, back arching as he filled you beautifully. His kisses were greedy and plentiful as he planted them on your lips, cheeks, jawline and down your chest. He fucked you soft and slow, like usual and your nails raked down his back as you groaned. You never thought you’d enjoy this the way you did. And you certainly never thought you’d have this with Dean. But it had been like this for several months now. It was the only way you’d been able to be intimate recently.

Your therapist had explained to you that it would take time for you to get back to where you were. Everything BDSM related had been put on the back burner for well over 2 months. At first you weren’t even intimate at all, but after a month, when you felt ready you were able to let Dean touch you again. It was all safe, slow, vanilla sex and you were convinced for the longest time Dean was going to change his mind about wanting to be yours. But he had been nothing but understanding and supportive. He’d given you everything you wanted or needed without question. When you finally felt ready to start exploring your old sex life again, Dean was super cautious, went over everything in intricate detail and made sure you were completely comfortable before anything happened. He had started telling you in advance what he had planned and had put a colour code in place so he could check in with you during sessions.

To say you started off slow was an understatement. The first step was reintroducing the rule that you had to ask permission to cum. The second step was kneeling again. Third was the odd spanking. It droned on like that for a while and even though you were eager, you did appreciate his obvious concern. As painful as it was, he’d made you tell him every detail of that night, he wanted to make sure he didn’t repeat anything. He didn’t want anything to trigger you if it reminded you of what had happened. This was something your therapist had also suggested that you did. Dean had spent nights online or on the phone to the man who trained him, looking into how reenacting what had happened with him might be a positive form of therapy. Your therapist talked you through it all, she made it clear she wasn’t a huge fan and you didn’t feel ready to explore that, so the subject was dropped. 

You liked the way things were heading now and you’d made great progress. You could almost be completely submissive to him again, forgetting the couple of triggers you still had. He made you feel safe and loved. Therapy, and Dean’s care of you, had helped you separate your bad experience with Sam from your great experiences with Dean. They were different people, Dean would never do what Sam did. You knew that. And now that you and Dean were officially a couple, you felt more comfortable than ever with him. You trusted him more than anything. He was your safe zone. He was your person. 

Dean’s fingers circled your clit as you were brought back to the present. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” he checked, a small smirk on his lips as he looked down at you.

“Mhm,” you nodded, biting down on your bottom lip as you groaned and felt him working you closer to your release. 

“Think you can cum for me again?” he asked as he fucked you slow but calculated. 

“Mhm,” you nodded again, fingers squeezing his forearm as he held himself over you. 

“Good girl,” he purred, dropping his face to your chest as he nibbled and sucked the skin. “Fuck, I love it when you cum on my cock,” he groaned, his nose reaching up and nudging yours. His words were the snapping point as you came undone around him. “That’s it sweetheart,” he encouraged, “you’re so beautiful when you cum for me.”

Dean kissed your lips, hard, tongue snaking to wet the corners of your mouth as he moaned into it and stopped above you. You could feel his climax, hot and wet as it trickled out of you and he softly rolled to your side. 

“Fuck,” he gasped, looking over at you before kissing your lips, “ you’re the fucking best, sweetheart,” he told you with a grin. 

“You sure?” you checked. As much as you were enjoying what you both had, you were worried you were boring him, when you looked back at what he was like before this, how he’d never even had this type of sex life or relationship before, this was totally different. Dean had always been very sure of what he liked and how he liked it, and hardly any of this was that. 

“Of course I’m sure, baby girl,” he told you, kissing you again. “Right, let me see to that ass, then I’m taking you out for lunch,” he smiled, getting up and grabbing the lotion from the side. 

*

To say you loved your home with Dean was an understatement. Everything was still new and exciting, but you were sure you’d never get bored or tired of it. It sat amongst rolling fields with a large gravel driveway that separated the house from the quiet country road. You were still only a five minute drive from the city, but once you’d driven the couple of minutes down the driveway towards the house, you’d never know. It was peaceful, birds always chirping away in the trees and you had the perfect view of sunset and sunrise from your backyard. The house was old, cottage style with outhouses and barns from when it was a working farm. But Dean was quick to modernise whatever needed it without taking away from the house’s character. 

One barn had been turned into a guest house, not that you ever really had guests, another had been turned into an office space for Dean to work from home when he really needed to and the largest barn that sat along the driveway, closest to the house had been converted into a garage where Dean could work on the Impalas. But your favourite conversion had to be the small outhouse that was connected to the main house, around the back. It had gone from a spacious one bedroom flat for guests into your own personal sex room. 

When Dean had suggested it, you’d laughed and told him you were pretty sure real sex rooms weren’t a thing. But he said he didn’t care, it made sense, and you supposed it did. It was somewhere to house all your things for starters, and it worked well having a place for your sessions that wasn’t your bedroom. It helped keep things separate, which was something that helped with your healing. It had its own ensuite that Dean was quick to add a bath to for aftercare and the small bedroom had been turned into storage for anything sex related. The main living area was now complete with a large four poster bed and enough space around it for all the various contraptions that Dean could think up. Reinforced hooks hung from the ceiling for tying things (or you) up. You always loved going into that room, the anticipation and excitement were second to none.

Every little detail of yours and Dean’s home, from the climbing ivy around the porch, to the winding path that led to a small stream and everything in between was perfect to you. You loved that you had something you shared with him that no one else did. You’d never loved living with someone else and you didn’t really like the fact that Dean had had other girls in what was your bedroom. So when you found it hard to relax in the Manor, and Dean suggested you looked at moving somewhere else together, you jumped at the chance. It did seem soon and rushed, but it also felt right. You found the house pretty quickly and Dean did what Dean does best and bossed people around a lot so everything was done to perfection before you moved in only 1 month later.

It was a fresh start you both needed. Your romantic relationship was new but it was like you’d been together for years. Dean was trying so incredibly hard to let his guard down and let you in. It took a few awkward dates where you could tell he was extremely nervous, but soon it settled down until he was far more natural around you and finally after a few months, you started to see the real Dean; the Dean you’d been desperate for all this time and you weren’t disappointed. He was kind and funny and extremely thoughtful. Okay, so he still barely held your hand or wrapped an arm around your shoulders in public, but what he gave you was enough; it was everything. 

You pulled the dress over your head and let it float down your body. You needed something that didn’t press against your sore ass too much. You spun left and right in the closet mirror as Dean walked in.

“You’re looking beautiful,” he told you, kissing your cheek on his way past before going to his side of the large room, thumbing through his million different coloured plaid shirts. You rolled your eyes with a small smirk. You were sure choosing which colour shirt was gonna be tough on him today. “What?” Dean raised his eyebrows as he saw you looking.

“Nothing,” you chuckled, turning your attention back to the mirror. Dean giggled to himself as he grabbed a red shirt with black on it. 

“Where do you fancy eating?” he asked as he grabbed a black t-shirt for underneath.

“I don’t mind, surprise me,” you smiled. 

“Alright,” he agreed and kissed the tip of your nose before he walked back out into your bedroom. 

As you climbed down the stairs you smiled at Mitchell. 

“Morning, Mitch,” you chirped. 

“Afternoon, Miss Y/L/N,” he smiled.

“Mitch, come on, it’s been almost a year now, you can call me Y/N, please,” you sighed. It wasn’t the first time you’d told him to call you by your first name and it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

“Alright, Y/N,” he smiled. 

“Thank you,” you giggled, “where’s Dean?” you asked. 

“I believe he’s in the garage.”

“And where’s Luke?” you checked. Dean had hired Luke not long after the incident as sort of your personal bodyguard. You’d insisted Dean was being dramatic, but that didn’t stop him, of course. Luckily, Luke didn’t really have much to do with you, he had replaced Phillip as your driver and he would just keep close tabs on you when you were out in public. When you were home he’d be around, but never invading your space. It made you nervous that Dean felt he was necessary. Last you’d heard, Sam was working in another state and after intensive therapy, was doing much better. Dean didn’t really tell you much, it was mainly what you’d overheard from him and John talking, and for the most part you didn’t care anyway, as long as he wasn’t coming back here; as long as you were safe.

“I believe Luke is in the car, waiting for you,” Mitchell told you. 

“Alright, thanks,” you smiled, walking out onto the porch. You could see Dean in the front of Baby, revving her engine to get her going as he pulled up at the bottom of the steps so you could climb in. 

“Not taking my car today?” you asked as you got in the passenger side.

“How am I meant to surprise you with where we’re eating if you’re driving?” Dean smirked. You chuckled, seeing his point.  
“Guess we’ll have to just take her out for a spin later,” you told him, glancing back at the cherry red ‘67 Impala. 

“Sure thing, darling,” Dean agreed, “but until then, let’s go eat, I’m starved.” His hand landed on your knee as he started the descent down the long driveway, Luke following on behind you. 

You looked across at your boyfriend and smiled. “You okay?” Dean asked upon noticing you staring.

“Yeah, I’m good, just been thinking a lot today,” you confessed, picking up his hand as you held it.

“Yeah? That’s why you’re so quiet, you’re normally talking my ears off,” he joked, squeezing your fingers to let you know he was winding you up. 

“Yeah…just thinking about how we used to be,” you told him with a blush. “I love what we have now, but I do miss some parts too,” you admitted. 

“Like what?” Dean prompted. You sighed and bit your bottom lip.

“I really like the whole vanilla sex thing, I never have before, but with you it’s different…” you started, “and this is nothing against you because you’re amazing,” you explained quickly, “but, it is a little boring sometimes.” Dean laughed for a moment.

“Yeah, sometimes,” he agreed, “but if that’s what you need right now, it’s cool,” he reassured you. 

“I guess, but I don’t know…maybe now that I’m getting back into the other stuff, we could, you know, be a bit more adventurous, bit less vanilla.” Dean’s green eyes glanced over at you for a moment as a small smirk graced his lips. He looked excited about the idea. As much as you knew he was trying his best to give you what you needed, and not once had he complained or let on he wasn’t totally satisfied, you knew him well enough to know it wasn’t what he would want, given the choice. He was just making sure you were happy. 

“You wanna add some strawberry sauce to the mix?” he joked.

“Yeah, you know, some sprinkles too, maybe some nuts,” you laughed.

“Ooh, nuts, now you’re just taking it too far,” Dean teased. You shook your head and laughed. “I hear you, sweetheart,” he said softly as he squeezed your hand again, “if you’re ready.”

“I am.”


	2. Better Than Pie

You were sat at your usual favourite spot, on the veranda, surrounded by flowers and greenery. This was your favourite place to eat and Dean took you here often. He always claimed that it was because of the pie. You remembered the first time you tried it, how Dean had ordered you your own because you loved it so much. Since then you’d always shared one for dessert.

“Ooh, wonder what I’ll have…” you teased. You didn’t really mind that it had become a routine, but once in a while, you would like to change it up.

“You know the reason I bring you here, sweetheart?” Dean was leaning back in his chair, not even bothering to look at the menu.

“Because the pie is good?” you joked.

“I mean…it is…” Dean agreed, sitting forward as he linked his fingers in front of him. “But, no.”

“Enlighten me,” you smirked, wondering what stupid thing he’d come up with. Dean loved making you laugh, so he found any opportunity to wind you up, crack a joke or just say something silly.

“This is the place that I realised I loved you,” he told you. Your eyes widened, heart beat increasing as you almost choked on your water. “Remember the first time we came here? And we just had a good time, no dominating, no kinky stuff, just us chatting, having a good time?” he asked. You simply nodded, words failing you as your mind still lingered on the word he’d just said. _Loved. _“Well, that was the moment I knew…I wanted more with you.”  
  


You were still speechless, mouth opening and closing silently as you tried to form words to reply. Dean had never used the L word before. The fact that he wanted a relationship with you, lived with you, kissed you and was romantic with you now was more than enough. You’d never expected the L word from him once. And definitely not any time soon. What he did for you and continued to do for you was always his own way of loving you and you’d accepted that.

When you thought back to that day, at least the part of the day before you got home to Sam, you always felt butterflies. You’d had the best day with Dean that day. You never would’ve admitted you were in love with him. But you were, you had been from the moment he told you to take your panties off on your first date. You realised most people would find that weird, but Dean was like no one you’d ever met. You loved him before you even knew him properly and every little thing you learned about him only made you love him more.  
  


“It was the most fun I’d ever had with a girl without taking any clothes off,” Dean lightened the mood a little with a cheeky wink. You shook your head and giggled. Classic Dean.

“Talk about bringing the tone down,” you joked. You rolled your eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he asked you, seriously. His voice was laced with his dom voice and the sound shot straight to your core. Once again you were rendered speechless. It had been a _long time _since Dean had used his dom voice in public. You fiddled with your knife and fork, lining them up straighter on the napkin as you cleared your throat and felt your cheeks burn with a blush.

“Sorry,” you choked out in a whisper. His eyebrows raised, like he was waiting for you to continue. “Sir,” you added. Dean nodded, as if to let you off the hook and before you could ask him why he’d suddenly slipped into dom mode, the waiter approached the table.

  
“Ready to order?” he asked. He recognised you from before, already knowing your drinks order as you sat down, but you assumed he was still asking you your food order in case, for once, you broke the mold and had something that wasn’t steak for Dean and pizza for you.

“Yes, I’ll have the steak cooked medium and she’ll have a chicken Cesar salad,” Dean told him, handing him his menu. You were sure you looked as shocked as the waiter as he took your menu. Dean hadn’t ordered for you in a long time. And if he had, he’d let you pick the meal first.

“No pizza?” the waiter checked.

“No, thank you,” Dean told him before you could protest.

  
The waiter left the table and you opened your mouth to speak, but Dean beat you to it.

“Regretting adding strawberry sauce to the ice cream yet?” he smirked. So _that’s _what this was about. You were still expecting Dean to take it slow, being over cautious like he’d been for months now. But apparently he’d jumped straight back into the deep end.

“No, Sir,” you smirked back, feeling the arousal stir. As nice as it had been eating what you wanted when you wanted and having the majority of the control back in your life, this was better. This would always be better. You’d missed it.

  
You had no doubt you could never let someone else control you the way you let Dean; you didn’t trust anyone else. Even when you first met you just knew you could trust him. It had always been your gut instinct. But the way Dean knew you was second to none. He might not have given you every little thing you wanted, he was strict, but he knew every limit, every line you’d drawn and somehow, without you even have to say anything, he knew when to stop before he took it too far. It had taken practice, of course. Some of which came before you existed in his life, and some of which he’d learned with you.

  
After the first and only time he’d spanked you hard enough to cause pain that lasted a few days, he’d stopped at just the right moment every time since. Your ass would ache a little, and like after that morning’s spanking, there was an underlying hint of pain as you sat and waited for your food to arrive, but it was bearable and it was always gone by the next day. How well he knew you didn’t end with the physical stuff either, it applied to everything. Even as far as to get you to have therapy. He’d tried to push you to do it, but not too hard. Just enough that was encouraging without it being suffocating. And therapy had changed your life for the better. Sometimes Dean joined you for sessions, your therapist, Mandy, would tell him ways to help you, exercises you could do together and that only made your relationship that much stronger.  
  


Dean’s green eyes scanned over you for a moment as he licked his bottom lip.

“What’s your colour?” he asked quietly.

“Green…” you told him hesitantly. Why wouldn’t it be green? He’d only ordered for you.

“Take your panties off,” he commanded, much like on your first date. Your heart beat increased. It had been a long minute since you’d done something like that. Your eyes glanced around the veranda, but it was fairly quiet. You still hesitated.

“What’s your colour now?” he checked.

“Green…” you repeated.

“Then what’s taking so long, princess?” he asked, head cocked to one side. You quickly shuffled in your seat, trying to discreetly pull them down under your dress, hoping no one was looking. You stopped when they hit your knees because the waiter was approaching your table with your food.

“Don’t stop,” Dean told you, eyebrows raised. You were blushing violently now as you tucked yourself further under the table and continued to wiggle the satin over your knees, feeling it drop to your ankles.

“Thank you,” you thanked the waiter politely, voice wavering as he placed your salad down in front of you. He served Dean as you kicked the panties off your one shoe. Once he’d walked away you bent down and pulled them off the rest of the way. You went to hand them to Dean.

“I don’t fucking want them,” he grunted. You weren’t used to the humiliation anymore, but it didn’t make it any less arousing. You were thrown off, not quite sure what to do with them so you quickly stuffed them into your purse.  
  


He started to eat in silence as you felt your arousal growing. 9 months ago, sat at a table at a restaurant without panties on wouldn’t have even bothered you, but it had been long enough that the thrill of it was back. You struggled to eat your salad, feeling uncomfortable. Dean must’ve known because his green eyes kept flickering to you and he would smirk now and then.

“Are you done?” he asked, when you stopped eating and started pushing the food around your plate instead. You nodded. “Good, I want you to go into the bathroom and make yourself cum.” He wiped his mouth with the napkin, followed by his fingers as he placed it back down alongside his plate. His command made you swallow thick. “And no cheating, I want you to send me videos,” he added. Your eyes only grew wider. “What’s your colour now?” he added after a moments silence.

“Green,” you told him quietly. He nodded and didn’t say anything else.

You took a deep breath, lifted your napkin from your lap and placed it on the table, smoothing down your dress as you stood up, hoping no one would notice you weren’t wearing any panties. After grabbing your purse you started for the bathroom.

“Sweetheart?” he called, making you turn around. He beckoned you closer with a flick of two fingers as you closed the gap and stood over him. He tipped his head back, looking up at you for a second before encouraging you to kiss him. You happily obliged for a moment.

“Don’t forget to send me the video,” he reminded you. You nodded and set off for the bathroom again.

  
You locked yourself in a cubicle and grabbed your phone out of your purse. Your free hand lifted the skirt of your dress and slipped between your legs. You were incredibly wet, not that you were surprised. The painfully submissive side of you that had been practically starved for 9 months was finally getting the attention it craved. You did love the soft, romantic side of Dean, of course you did, but when he treated you like this, degrading and humiliating you, it was the attention you needed the most. Your fingers were moving so easily around your bundle of nerves thanks to your arousal.

Your phone buzzed in your hand and when you looked, Dean had text you.

_What’s taking you so long?_

You loaded the camera and clicked record, pointing it between your legs so it showed how you were working yourself. You didn’t want to keep him waiting so you sent him a 20 second clip. You were barely taking notice of what you were actually doing, just staring at your phone, waiting to see the notification that he’d received the video, and then waiting on baited breath for a reply.

_Don’t be lazy, fingers inside. 3 of them._

You were quick to obey, and even though he’d be none the wiser if you didn’t, you would know you’d disobeyed him, and that was bad enough. You slipped one inside at first, quickly followed by a second and started recording again as you worked the two fingers inside you, twisting and scissoring them to make room for the third. After adding the final finger you stopped recording and once again sent him the clip.

The two ticks turned blue and you waited.

_Good girl. Wanna see all of you, show me your face too._

You drew a nervous breath and set the camera up on the basin of the sink, making sure it was angled correctly as you leaned back against the wall, and checked you were fully in shot. Pressing record, you set back to work, watching the tiny version of yourself on your phone screen. You moaned softly, your now free hand massaging your breasts through your clothes. You stepped forward and sent it.

_Such a fucking whore. Bend over, wanna see it properly._

You clicked record again and turned around, bending over and looking over your shoulder to check that the angle was still in view. This angle was the most comfortable for you to really be able to fuck yourself. Your fingers slipped in and out easily enough as you moaned and gasped softly, trying to be as quiet as possible. You heard your phone buzz and turned around stopping recording and sending it immediately.

_Don’t keep me waiting or you won’t get to cum at all._

You waited for him to see the new video, feeling the coil tightening. The whole situation was incredibly arousing and you just needed to allow yourself to let go.

_You’re such a fucking mess. Want you to cum now. You have one minute or I’m coming in there._

You didn’t need to be told twice. You pressed record as quickly as possible, returned to be being bent over in front of the camera and fucked yourself hard and fast with the three fingers still buried inside you. You could hear your arousal, feel the coil tighten to near snapping. Your free hand reached for the radiator in front of you as you squeezed it hard, legs shaking as your climax hit you. You took a moment to recover, but not too long, wanting to send the evidence of your orgasm to Dean before he thought you’d disobeyed.

After sending the video you sat down, taking deep breaths before returning to the sink, washing your hands and dabbing your face with cold water, smoothing your hair down and making sure your dress was fixed properly. You made sure it wasn’t obvious what had gone on before you left the bathroom and confidently, made your way back to your table. Dean was raising to his feet, pushing his phone into his pocket.

“We’re going,” he told you as soon as you returned. He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth to kiss the fingers that were moments ago inside you. You smiled softly as he pulled you out of the restaurant.

“No pie?” you asked. Dean laughed, holding the door open for you.

“Sweetheart, I’ve got something much better than pie waiting for me,” he winked.


	3. Progress

“I think we need to discuss some sort of code or something,” you told Dean. It had been a week since you’d asked Dean to step the dominance up and to say he took your words on board was an understatement, you were almost back to how it was 9 months ago, except now he would sometimes be sweet and romantic. Previously, you’d had two days a week that were yours, when you weren’t a submissive and Dean couldn’t order you around; the rest of the time you were at his mercy. But now that you were in a relationship, and that relationship was more than just Dominant and submissive, those lines were blurred. You didn’t want to have “time off”, but you also didn’t want 100% of your life to be dictated either.

Before now, when you’d been getting back into it, it was simple. Dean was only your dom in your sex room, otherwise he was your boyfriend, but since the day in the restaurant, that wasn’t the case anymore. It was starting to get a little confusing. But maybe you were thinking too much into this, maybe you just needed to go with the flow. 

“Code?” Dean questioned, eyebrows raised. He dropped his fork to his plate and picked up a slice of bacon with his fingers. “For what?” He bit into his bacon.

“You know, to mark when you’re my dom and when you’re my boyfriend,” you explained. 

“I’m always both.”

“Well, not  _ always,  _ sometimes I’m allowed to talk back to you, other times I’m not. I’d just like to know where I am, what you want from me. So I just thought maybe we could use a code…” you started to rethink your idea, it was stupid, “I don’t know,” you shrugged.

“Like a safeword?” he asked. 

“Sure, but one that starts something not ends it,” you nodded. 

This was new to both of you. Dean had plenty of experience being a dominant but absolutely no experience being a boyfriend, whereas you had plenty of experience being a girlfriend and very little experience being a submissive. You assumed there were thousands of couples out there that mixed the two sides easily enough without it being complicated. There had to be some sort of system or way of doing it. 

“And you don’t want to have set days like before?” he asked. 

“I think we’re past set days, besides I don’t want to think of it like a job.” You swirled your fork around the remaining maple syrup on your plate. 

“What  _ do  _ you want, sweetheart?” he asked, staring at you intently to let you know he was genuinely interested. 

“Well, I…” You stopped to think for a second. This was new territory. “I think I’d like it to be an even split,” you told him. “I don’t mind where and when you decide to dominate me, I’d just like some indication that it was happening.” Dean was quiet for a long moment as he thought on it. His demeanor changed as he squared his shoulders a little, eyes narrowing slightly as his face hardened. 

“Back straighter, Princess,” he commanded. You instantly sat up straight, correcting your posture and looking to Dean to make sure he was happy. 

“See?” he asked after a moment’s silence. You were confused, his shoulders slumped, face softened as he smirked cheekily at you. “How did you know I was dominating you then?” 

“Well, you gave me a command,” you whispered. 

“And?” he prompted.

“You used your dom voice,” you added, “and your body language changed.” Your voice grew more confident as you realised what was happening. “And you called me Princess. You only do that when you’re being my dom,” you finished. Dean didn’t say anything for a moment as he sipped his coffee, as if to make a point. 

“I think we’ll be fine,” he concluded, smiling over at you. 

*

“I’d like Dean to stay for this session if that’s okay with you, Y/N?” Mandy smiled softly at you. Her bobbed blonde hair was tucked behind her ears as usual. She was dressed formally like always, a little navy tight fitting dress. You looked to your boyfriend for a second and nodded. Usually Dean was involved in sessions when she was going to give you exercises to do at home. 

“Of course,” you agreed quietly. Dean smiled softly at you and gave your hand a squeeze as you both headed to the couch opposite her large arm chair. You had never minded Dean being there, there was nothing you spoke about you didn’t want him to know or that he didn’t already anyway, but it did make you nervous about what Mandy would want to discuss. 

“Actually, sweetheart, just so you know, I asked Mandy if I can be at this session,” Dean told you as you both took a seat. You frowned a little.

“Why?” you asked softly. 

“Because I want to make sure that everything we’re doing is okay, our relationship did change recently,” he said gently. 

“Dean, I’m fine,” you argued. “I think I can tell you if it’s all okay or not.” You weren’t quite sure why you were annoyed, but Dean being so overcautious was starting to annoy you. You weren’t made of glass, you weren’t about to break at any second. 

“We’ve made a lot of progress here, Y/N, we don’t want anything to hinder that,” Mandy spoke up, defending Dean. You sighed heavily and nodded your head in defeat. 

“So why don’t you tell me how your relationship has changed?” she asked after a moment’s silence. 

“Well, before Dean would dominate me in more ways than just sexually,” you told her. You’d gotten past any embarrassment you felt a long time ago. Mandy had never once seemed to judge you and besides, she needed to know a lot about that side of you given why you were seeing her in the first place. 

“Before what, Y/N?” Mandy prompted. This happened a lot. She was never forceful about it, but she did always try and encourage you to say his name and what happened. You took a deep breath, it got better every time, but it still wasn’t easy yet. 

“Before Sam assaulted me,” you told her on shaky breath. “Anyway,” you said quickly, moving on, “this last week, Dean has started to do that again,” you finished explaining. 

The three of you talked about it for a little while until Mandy reassured you both that as long as you were happy, she couldn’t see why it would be an issue with your healing. 

“I’ve still been reading up on using roleplay for therapy, you know, reenact the assault,” Dean spoke up. Mandy pursed her lips for a moment.

“As a therapist, I can’t recommend you do that, I understand people have had success with that method, but if it’s not done right it can also cause more damage. Y/N’s issue is the fact her safe word failed her. The best thing you can do that involves positive reinforcement is to make sure you always stop when she uses it.” 

“Of course, I get that, I just thought there’s still some things that really bother her, I just want to help her in any way I can,” Dean explained.

“Then let’s discuss some of those things, Y/N,” Mandy smiled. “Is Dean allowed to touch your neck yet?” she asked. You shook your head immediately, just the thought of  _ anyone  _ touching your neck made your throat close up and panic rise inside you. “Is it something you’d like to be okay with again?” she checked. 

“Yeah,” you said slowly, but you already didn’t like the idea of whatever it was she was going to suggest that would fix it. 

“There’s something called confrontation therapy that might help in this situation,” she began. “We’ll take very small steps,” she reassured you. 

Something you’d already done previously was get Dean to repeat some of the words that Sam had said to you that night, whilst doing something positive, like holding your hand or saying it in between loving kisses. It was supposed to retrain your mind to associate the words with something more positive than before. It had taken several weeks, but it had started to work and Mandy explained that this was the same premise but with something physical like being choked. 

“So at first, you might just want to work towards Dean being able to touch the side of your neck very softly, then when you’re completely comfortable like that, you might want to work towards to him kissing your neck.” Mandy explained. “Dean, why don’t you turn to Y/N, and just say what Sam said when he choked her.” You gulped hard as you started wide eyed at him. This part should be easy by now, but all you could think about was what was going to come next. You knew it was irrational, you trusted Dean with your life, you should be able to trust him to touch your neck. Dean cleared his throat.

“Y/N, I want you to close your eyes, if you feel uncomfortable at any time you just need to tell us to stop,” Mandy reassured you. You licked your lips and nodded quickly, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes on Dean’s soft, reassuring smile. “We’re going to find where we need to start working from.”

“Isn’t this what you want, baby?” Dean spoke up, his voice soft and deep. You drew another deep breath and tried to remain calm. 

“Ok, good, are you okay, Y/N?” Mandy checked. 

“Fine,” you agreed. 

“Okay then, Dean, do it again, this time Y/N, he’s going to rest his hand on your shoulder, close to your neck but he won’t touch it.” You just nodded, keeping your eyes closed. 

“Isn’t this what you want, baby?” Dean repeated, his warm and heavy hand resting just at the curve in your shoulder that extended up to your neck. You shuddered a little, a tiny spark of panic inside you, but you controlled it with your breathing like your previous sessions had taught you.

“That’s very good, Y/N, how would you feel about Dean putting his hand on the side of your neck?” she asked.

You fluttered your eyes open to see Dean looking at you a little concerned, but he was smiling. 

“Okay, we’ll try it,” you agreed. You closed your eyes again and kept yourself calm with your breathing. 

“Isn’t this what you want, baby?” Dean’s hand pressed against the side of your neck, fingers curling around the back. You drew a shaky breath. 

“How do you feel?” Mandy asked.

“I’m okay,” you whispered but the panic was starting to build. 

“Open your eyes, sweetheart,” Dean told you softly, you did as you were told and was greeted with his gorgeous face. He didn’t remove his hand but you did feel better. “It’s me, you’re safe,” he reassured you, kissing your lips softly. You barely noticed his thumb move to the front of your throat as it gently pressed at the centre. “You’re amazing,” he told you with a smile as he kissed you once more. 

“That was really great progress and it’s something you can work on at home too, just take it really slowly,” Mandy told you both. Dean’s hand slipped from your neck as he grabbed your hand instead and gave it a squeeze. You felt proud of yourself, a smile spreading over your lips. Dean had touched your neck and you hadn’t totally freaked out. It didn’t seem like much, but to you, it was everything. Every day Sam had less and less hold over you, every day you were able to move on that little bit more and you were sure it wouldn’t be long until he couldn’t hurt you ever again.


	4. Too Much

_ 2 Months Later _

“Gonna cum for me, whore?” Dean grunted. You panted, the muscles in your thighs were burning and your lungs felt on fire. You nodded, desperately, your movements slowing as you grew more and more tired. “Gotta work for it, c’mon,” Dean prompted, a slap landing on the side of your breast. You placed your hands flat on Dean’s chest and drew a shaky breath, trying to focus on lifting and dropping your hips as you fucked him, rotating them in small circles when he was fully seated before lifting them again. There were breathy, desperate whines bleeding from your lips as you tried your best to keep the momentum going. Your orgasm was pending, you could feel it bubbling in your core, but you were too tired to fuck him as hard and fast as you needed to. You were faltering. 

Dean’s large palm smoothed up the centre of your body, between your breasts as his fingers curled around your neck and he squeezed softly. The panic simmered under the surface of your skin for a second, but the lack of oxygen was enough to help progress your climax that little bit and you moaned softly. Dean encouraged you to lean forward as he raised his knees and started to thrust up into you, meaning you could relax and just take it. Now you could focus on the orgasm that had been teasing you for what felt like hours.

“Isn’t this what you want, baby?” Dean whispered into your ear, “don’t you want to cum for me?” he added. The words should have bothered you, and for a split second they did, but it was very quickly replaced by the desperate need to cum. Your nails clawed at Dean’s chest as you felt yourself tense around him. “That’s it…” he encouraged. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you let go. The euphoria flooded your veins quickly, eyes rolling back as you moaned loudly and Dean swallowed it with a kiss. But the second you started to climb down from your high, feeling Dean’s hand around your throat made you crash hard.

“Red red red,” you spluttered, prompting him to let go immediately. He stopped thrusting and just looked up at you, concern flooding his face.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” Dean soothed, stroking the side of your face before kissing you again. “You want to stop?” he asked gently. You wanted to shake your head, you wanted to continue so he could finish because otherwise you’d feel incredibly selfish but before you could bring yourself to, tears had escaped your eyes without you even realising it. 

Dean carefully pulled you off of him and rolled you so you were laying on the bed, him leaning over you as he started to kiss you again.

“Too much?” he asked, his green eyes carefully tracing your face as if to read your expression. 

“I was fine until...once I cum…” you sniffled. 

“Okay, sh sh,” he pulled you against him and your buried your face in his neck as you felt yourself calm back down. His hand was stroking through your hair and down your back, fingertips making little patterns as he went. It was soothing and you found your tears dry up quickly. 

After a couple more moments you were feeling better and you noticed Dean was still semi hard as it rested along your thigh. You wanted him to get to finish too so you started to gently kiss his neck, your hand snaking down his torso and wrapping around his girth as soon as you found it.

“Sweetheart,” Dean grumbled, “you don’t have to,” he told you. 

“I want to,” you whispered into his neck. You felt him harden more and more in your hand until he was back to being fully erect. Dean groaned softly.

“Sure?” he checked. A muffled  _ mhm  _ bled through your lips as you bit his neck gently. He didn’t need any further persuasion, rolling on top of you, he kissed down your neck briefly, focusing his attention on your collarbone and down to your breasts. 

Opening your legs, you felt him settle between them for a moment before he reached for the one leg and brought it over his body, to join your other leg, pulling your hips further down the bed so you were curled up on your side. Dean leaned over you, rubbing himself along your entrance as he slowly filled you again. You moaned, Dean’s hand resting on the side of your thigh as he started to fuck you. You reached up and gripped his arm, trying to rock your hips to help him out. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby girl,” Dean purred, reaching down to kiss the side of your breast, his fingertips digging into the flesh of your hip. “Oh shit, you're tight like this,” he groaned. You could feel his length rub you in all the right places, nudging at your sweet spot over and over as he started to build another climax inside you. 

You mewled, burying your face in the pillow beneath you as you felt Dean rotate his hips and purposefully drag his cock in and out of you slowly. Why was he such a fucking  _ tease?  _

“De, please,” you begged, clawing at his forearm. He chuckled.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he prompted. 

“Please, Daddy, please stop teasing me,” you whined on fake sobs. A harsh spank landed on your ass.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warned you, “or Daddy won’t let you have that orgasm you want,” he laughed. How the fuck did he  _ know?!  _ If you could’ve stomped your foot, you would’ve. But you knew that would only get you into deeper trouble. You whimpered again and tilted your hips in a desperate bid to feel something more intense to urge your orgasm on. 

Dean’s hand snaked around your thigh to between your legs, thick fingers starting to tease at your bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck,” you gasped, biting down on the plump pillow. He started to pick up the pace again, fucking into you harder and faster now as you felt him quickly finish building your climax. “Oh god, I’m gonna... _ shit,  _ Dean,” you screamed. 

“What, sweetheart? Tell me…” Dean prompted, a knowing smirk on his face. He was such a dick. You grunted, annoyed. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you huffed. Dean chuckled. 

“Are you? Without permission?” he checked. 

“Please, Sir, please can I?” you begged. 

“Alright,” he agreed as you let go.

*

“Ma’am,” Mitchell spoke up, prompting you to look up from your book. You raised an eyebrow and he smiled a little, “Y/N,” he corrected himself. You smiled warmly and placed your book down, seeing him carrying a box in his hands. You recognised the box as the one that held your dress for this year’s company ball. You assumed it had now been altered. “Sofia said she would be here at 5pm to make sure everything is okay,” Mitchell explained. Sofia was your seamstress and always helped you dress for events, making sure everything was perfect and to iron any last minute creases as you got ready. “Would you like this in your bedroom?” Mitchell asked.

“Yes please, if you put it on the island in the middle of the closet that would be great,” you smiled. Mitchell nodded and left you alone again. Before you could find your place in your book again, a deep voice sounded into the room.

“Knock, knock.” You looked up to see who it was.

“John,” you smiled, peeling the blanket back off your legs and climbing to your feet as you walked to greet him.

“How you doing, doll?” he asked as you greeted him with a hug and let him kiss your cheek.

“I’m good thanks, how are preparations for tonight going?” you asked, leading him through the hallway to the kitchen so you could offer him a drink. 

“I’m sure it’ll be as good as usual and I’m sure, like always, there will be  _ some  _ drama,” John chuckled.

You blushed a little as you remembered you were the centre of last years’. You never did apologise for that, but in hindsight, it wasn’t completely your fault. Getting to the kitchen you put your book down on the counter and grabbed two whiskey tumblers, knowing John well enough to not need to ask as you poured you both a measure each. You handed John his glass and smiled. 

“I’m sure it’ll all run smoothly,” you reassured him. His hazel eyes sparkled down at you as he took a sip of his drink. 

“I’m assuming you’re wearing something beautiful,” he told you. Ever since you had that stern talking to him about the way he treated you, you and John had actually gotten on well. He was a flirt and a tease, and you could see where Dean got the majority of his personality traits from. 

“Of course,” you smirked, sipping your own drink. 

“My son is one lucky man,” John told you. 

“Dad! Forever trying to steal my girl!” Dean announced as he entered the room. You giggled and grabbed him a glass, pouring him a drink. Dean slapped a hand on his Dad’s shoulder as he passed and took the glass from you, kissing your cheek lovingly.

“C’mon now, son, could’ve sworn I always taught you to share,” John teased. 

“I’m never sharing her again,” Dean laughed, kissing you again. 

“I better go get ready, baby,” you told him softly, noticing the time. You wanted to have a bath before people started arriving to do your hair and make up. 

Dean nodded.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he agreed. 

“We’ve got some business to discuss anyway,” John smiled. “See you later, doll,” he leaned over and kissed your temple. 

“See you later,” you agreed before leaving the room. You were half way up the stairs when you remembered you’d left your book on the side in the kitchen. You fancied reading some more in the bath so you turned around and headed back down the stairs and towards the kitchen. The door had been closed over.

“How is she doing?” John asked, “therapy going well?” 

“Yeah, I think so, we’re getting closer and closer to being back to normal,” Dean replied. 

“Have you told her yet?” You stopped for a moment, curiosity piquing. 

“She’s not ready,” Dean sighed. “And... I don’t know how to. ” 

“She deserves to know, Dean, the sooner the better,” John’s voice was stern. 

“Why? What good is it going to do? What if it hinders her recovery? Why does it matter about the camera? We deleted the footage, she already knows Sam was a creep,” Dean grunted. Wait, what footage? What camera? You frowned at the door and stepped a little bit closer.

“Ok, don’t tell her about the camera, but you have to at least tell her the truth about Jess, about what happened to her,” John argued, “if you want her to become part of this family, if you want to be with her for the rest of your life, she’s gonna find out sooner or later, so better her find out from you the right way.” 

“You’re right,” Dean sighed, “I’ll talk to her,” he agreed. 

*

“Wow, baby girl, you look...wow,” Dean beamed. “I’m so fucking lucky,” he gushed, pulling you into him as he kissed you passionately. “How easy is this dress to take off?” he smirked, teeth grazing your earlobe. You pulled away and just smiled softly.

“Not easy,” you replied simply. 

“Hm, guess we don’t have time, then,” Dean giggled, “but later…” You sighed.

“Dean,” you grunted, stopping him. 

“You okay?” he checked. No. All you’d been thinking about was the truth about Jess. What had happened to her? All you knew was she died in a fire, so that wasn’t true? Did Sam do something to her? Something that Dean and John have known about all this time? You couldn’t jump to conclusions, you knew that. And the last thing you wanted to do was cause another drama again this year. So you took a deep breath. You could talk to Dean about it all tomorrow, once the ball was over.

“Yeah, yeah I’m just nervous,” you lied. “You look handsome,” you smiled, taking in him in his tux. “Shall we go?” 

You were quiet the whole ride to the venue. Dean’s hand remained firmly on your thigh as Luke drove you. 

“You’re quiet,” Dean noted, “you know there’s nothing to be nervous about, right? You’ve met everyone important, they all love you, it’s just gonna be a good night out,” he reassured you. You forced a smile to your lips.

“Yeah...I know,” you nodded. 

“Just stay with me all night, and if you want to leave at any time, you just let me know,” he added. You nodded again and placed your hand over his on your leg, squeezing it softly. “No one knows…” he added. You swallowed thickly. You could tell Dean didn’t really want to bring it up. “In case that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“Good,” you whispered. 

Dean smiled warmly at you as you took his hand and he helped you out of the car. You hooked your arm in his and he lead the way up the grand staircase towards the main building. Two ushers opened the tall wide doors for you as you stepped into the busy bustle of the foyer. Your eyes scanned all the faces, some familiar but most of them weren’t. 

“Sir, ma’am.” There was a tray with champagne on it being held in front of you, you reached for a glass and instantly took a sip, needing the courage. 

“There you are! What time do you call this?” Ellen’s familiar voice sounded to your left and you turned to see her. She looked lovely as always. “You look gorgeous, both of you!” She busied, kissing you both on the cheeks quickly. “And  _ why, oh why,  _ did you not tell me he was back?” Ellen slapped Dean’s shoulder playfully.

“What? Ellen? Who?” Dean frowned, rubbing his shoulder. 

“Your brother, of course!” She beamed, “he’s just over there! Made it back from Australia just for the ball! Isn’t he just a total sweetheart?” she gushed.

Your throat closed up as your grip on Dean tightened. You were feeling faint and you might just pass out.


	5. Safe

Dean’s head snapped to you straight away, concern on his face as he checked on you. 

“We don’t have to go over there, we can stay away from him all night,” he reassured you. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. You were paralysed. The fact that he was in the same room as you made you feel nauseous and claustrophobic. The walls were closing in on you. He could be twenty foot away or he could be two, it didn’t matter. He was here. He could approach you, he could talk to you if he wanted to. 

You felt Dean pull you away, to a quiet corridor and away from the crowds.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he soothed, bending his head to make eye contact, “I won’t let him hurt you, okay?” he asked gently. “You’re safe with me.” 

“Are you sure?” you snapped. You didn’t mean to be so blunt but your emotions were getting the better of you and you still had no idea what Dean was keeping from you.

“Of course I’m sure, don’t you trust me?” he asked, hurt on his face that you’d even suggest otherwise. 

“Yes,” you sighed, trying to calm down, “I’m sorry, I do.” You meant it. Whatever Dean was keeping from you was for a reason, you were sure. He’d never intentionally let anyone hurt you. 

“Okay, take some deep breaths like Mandy taught you,” he instructed. “Do you want to leave?” he asked. 

You practiced your controlled breathing for a moment as you thought about your answer. You wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in bed, going back to ignorantly believing Sam was dead. But if you left, Sam won. Again. He beat you. He was the one that should be leaving, he’s the one that should be ashamed at what he’s done. You shouldn’t have to ruin your night because of him. He’d ruined enough in your life already. You needed to prove that he didn’t have a hold on you any more.

“No, he should leave,” you muttered. Dean pulled one corner of his mouth tight as he sighed and nodded his head. 

“You’re right, let me talk to my father,” Dean offered.

“No, De, stay,” you panicked. Dean’s hand snaked to the back of your head as he pulled your face closer to his. 

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he promised you, kissing your lips softly. 

*

“Are you kidding me?” Dean grunted at his father.

“Dean, no one here knows what’s happened if Sam sits somewhere else then it’ll look like…”   
“Like what, Dad? Like we’re not the perfect, happy family? Because we’re not! Newsflash! Sam tried to  _ rape  _ my girlfriend. And you expect us to sit at the same table as him? Really? How far are you willing to go to keep the family image up, hm?” Dean was seething, you were crying and John was getting more and more red in the face by the second. Luckily, you were in some private room away from guests. 

“Look, Dean, I’m not thrilled about it, but it is what it is,” John huffed. 

“Don’t fucking pretend like you can’t do something about this!” Dean yelled. “If you want me and Y/N at that meal then you better move Sam,” Dean threatened. “What would look worse, Dad? Sam sitting with Ellen and Bobby or Me and Y/N not even there?” 

John sighed heavily and shook his head. 

“Goddamn you, Dean,” he muttered. 

“Tell me I’m being unreasonable, Dad,” Dean prompted, “forget keeping up appearances.” John sighed again and his hazel eyes fell on you. 

“You’re right,” he agreed. “Dean, you know this whole keeping up appearances is important, right? For the business? If people ever find out what Sammy did we would lose so much business it would shut us down,” John explained. “We can’t have this getting out, it would ruin us. And I want you to have a good future, both of you. I want my future grandchildren to never have to worry about money, I want you to never have to worry about their education or where they’re going to live. I’m unconventional about it sometimes, but I’m not just some bastard that doesn’t care about anything but work. I do love you, both of you.” 

Dean’s shoulders seemed to slump a little in submission. 

“Well you sure as hell have a funny way of showing it,” Dean mumbled, “how could you even want him here?” 

“Dean, Sam’s still my son, I can’t turn my back on him, maybe when you’re a father one day you’ll get that.” Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Are we done here? Will you move him?” Dean grunted. John nodded softly. 

“Y/N?” he turned to you. “Doll, I’m sorry this has upset you.” He seemed sincere, but you were still mad that he wouldn’t tell you Sam was going to be here, he had every opportunity earlier that day. But he didn’t because he knew you wouldn’t come and that would  _ look bad _ and although you could sort of understand his reasoning, it didn’t make it any easier. John must’ve had thick skin to be able to make these kind of calls. 

*

To say the dinner was uncomfortable would be an understatement. You spent most of the time either practising your breathing techniques or trying and failing desperately to make small talk with Lilly, who was there last year as John’s date. She had been his submissive the longest out of all of his girls. She was nice and friendly, but you could barely think of any words to say, your mind was too focused on Sam, who was only one table over. He kept looking over at you. He looked different. He was more tanned and his hair was a little longer. He’d grown a bit of a beard. He looked well and that made you unbelievably angry. How dare he be okay. How dare he be happy. When you’d been suffering all this time? 

Your grip on your knife and fork was painfully tight and it only loosened when Dean rested his hand on your knee and stroked across the skin softly with his thumb. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he whispered, leaning into you. You grabbed your champagne and took a long sip, attempting to calm your nerves with yet more alcohol. “Hey, living well is the best revenge,” Dean reminded you, kissing your cheek softly. You placed your glass back and turned your face to Dean. You smiled softly. He was right. You being happy with Dean was the biggest  _ fuck you  _ to Sam. If It wasn’t for what he did, Dean might not have picked up the courage to tell you how he felt and then maybe you wouldn’t be together. 

You leaned forward and softly pressed your lips to his. Dean was eager to respond, chasing your lips when you withdrew. You hadn’t expected him to want to kiss you, not in front of all these people at such a fancy event. But Dean’s hand snaked to the back of your head and held it in place as he deepened your kiss, tongue tracing your bottom lip as you happily obliged and let him in. It wasn’t heated or passionate, but it was more than you ever expected from Dean in public and it made you feel a little fuzzy, especially mixed with the alcohol in your system. A deep throat clearing broke you apart as you both turned to see John looking at you with eyebrows raised.

“Save that for the hotel room later, yeah?” he smirked a little. 

Dean also cleared his throat and wiped his lips a little.

“Sorry, Sir,” he blushed with a small smile. You also dabbed your lips with your fingers, they were tingling a little but as you glanced up and caught Sam staring, it brought your mood down a peg or two. You took another sip of drink and tried to pretend you hadn’t noticed. Why was he just  _ staring  _ like that? Was he still in love with you? What if he was waiting for you to be alone and he was going to try something? What if he tried to finish what he started? Your head was spinning and you felt sick again. Taking deep breaths you stood up abruptly. 

“I need the bathroom,” you flustered. 

“Let me come,” Dean offered. But you couldn’t even wait for him to catch up, your long strides carried you towards the bathroom as quickly as possible. 

Once inside you splashed some cold water on your face and attempted to pat it dry without ruining your makeup. You didn’t feel so safe without Dean right beside you, but you knew he’d only be outside the door. Your hands were shaking and you could feel yourself getting claustrophobic again. Breathing was becoming harder to do as your fingers gripped the edge of the sink. You wanted to go out to Dean but you were paralysed. You thought about calling for him to come in, but your voice was gone. All you could do was feel the crushing on your chest as everything felt heavy and dark. You could feel something tight around your neck like it was strangling you. Sam’s words were echoing around your head. His voice was razor sharp and cutting into your stomach like a knife. You wanted to be sick but even that seemed impossible as you waited for this to pass.

This had happened a lot at the beginning of your recovery. It was one of the main reasons Dean had started pushing for you to have therapy. You hadn’t had an episode this bad for a long time and it had crept up on you suddenly. Moments ago, you were sat at the table kissing Dean and you were okay. And now you felt like your heart might stop, your skin might peel away it was so hot and that was if the walls didn’t crush you to death first. You still couldn’t breathe. 

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice called through the door. It was what you needed to ground you, bring you back to the shiny, echoey bathroom. You were safe, you were okay. “You okay in there, Sweetheart?” his voice sounded again, bringing you back quicker and quicker. You were able to focus on your breathing again now as you felt the last of the panic settle enough that you could move.

“Yeah, I’ll be out now,” you called back. You fixed your hair and took one last breath before leaving.

You stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing down your dress as you stood in front of Dean. He instantly stepped in front of you, but with his back turned to you and before you could ask what he was doing, his voice sounded.

“Sam,” he growled. Your heart stopped. The panic you’d only just managed to settle was rising again and quickly. Dean reached behind him to hold you against him protectively. “Don’t you fucking dare, stay there,” he warned. 

“Dean, look, I just want to…” Sam stopped. His voice was exactly like you remembered and it turned your stomach. “Y/N,” he tried now. His name on your lips was your undoing as you started to cry. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but you just couldn’t help it.

“You don’t get to talk to her, you don’t get to say her name,” Dean spat.    
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I’ve been in rehab and...they say that one of the steps is to ask for forgiveness and…”

“I couldn’t give two fucks what rehab told you to do, you ever so much as look at Y/N again and I’ll personally make sure the next place you visit is a graveyard.” 

Even you were shocked with the way Dean was treating his brother. Family was the most important thing to him, and he was loyal to no end. So the fact he was so easily dismissing Sam really spoke volumes to how he felt about the entire situation. 

“Dean, I’m your family,” Sam croaked out.

“No, Sam, you gave that up when you hurt, Y/N. She’s my family and you know I’ll do anything to protect what’s mine.” Sam looked hurt, tears filling his eyes. It was only a split second that you felt bad for him, because your next thought was  _ good.  _ He nodded slowly.

“Okay, I get it,” he whispered. “I’ll leave you alone.” He walked off a little dazed and the second he was out of sight, Dean spun around and held you in his arms. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe,” he soothed. 

“De? I wanna go,” you sobbed out. 

“Of course, sweetheart,” Dean agreed.

*

The car ride home had been as quiet as the journey there. You were still trying to process everything. Sam was back, he was around and maybe that meant you’d see him again. Although you really hoped it didn’t mean that at all. He’d tried to apologise, like saying  _ sorry  _ was going to make it all better. After everything he did? He was still just as crazy, clearly. You were so happy Dean had stuck up for you, that he’d sided with you and not backed down, not even to John. But you still couldn’t help think about what he was keeping from you.

“Did you know?” you finally asked, voice weak.    
“Know what, sweetheart?” Dean prompted. 

“Sam…” you trailed off.

“No, why would I take you if I knew? Why would I keep that from you?” he asked. You sighed and looked at your hands as they clasped together in your lap.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you keep from me,” you mumbled. Dean didn’t respond, his body tensed a little. 

“You’re okay, Y/N, you’re safe.” He at least was telling the truth about that. If tonight had had any positive come from it, it was knowing that you needed Dean. He made everything better, he made it all the more bearable. His voice alone pulled you out of a panic attack. Dean’s hand rested on your knee softly. “You’ll always be safe as long as you’re with me.”


	6. Angry

“You angry, baby girl?” Dean asked you. You grunted, eyes narrowed as you stared at him. “Cute,” he smirked. You tugged on your bounds but they were stronger than you. Your wrists rubbed against the leather cuffs as you attempted to work your hands free, despite them being behind your back so you couldn’t see what you were doing. 

“Mmff,” you tried to complain, but he’d gagged you. He was towering over you as you knelt at his feet and the best you could do to show him how frustrated you were was glare at him. If looks could kill, he’d have been dead a long time ago. If you had to guess, you’d say he’d been teasing and edging you for well over an hour. But the reality of it was, it could’ve only been 20 minutes.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he frowned a little. He was making you angry on purpose, you were sure of it. Not that it had taken very much for you to get angry in the last week. Ever since you’d seen Sam again, your tolerance levels were low. Dean neglecting to make you a coffee when he made himself one had caused heated arguments already. One sided, of course. And always settled the same way. Dean’s dom voice would boom through the room and you would submit to him. So despite it not taking much effort at all, you weren’t exactly sure  _ why  _ Dean wanted you to be angry. Because if he didn’t, he was going the wrong way about it. But Dean was clever, he knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted this to happen. 

But now you were so pissed off it went beyond him being your dominant. His dom voice couldn’t save him now. Maybe if he’d had just left the argument at him not making his side of the bed this morning because  _ the cleaner does it anyway,  _ it would’ve worked a charm. But no, he’d added bondage and gags and touching and teasing and filthy words to the mix. So now, not only were you pissed off with him, you were pent up and ready to explode. You told yourself, the next time he tries to edge you, the next time he tries to deny you an orgasm you’re just going to ignore him. You could deal with the consequences later, you just needed some sort of goddamn  _ relief.  _

But it was like he could read your mind because ever since you’d made that decision, Dean hadn’t touched you once. Fuck him. Fuck him and his stupidly handsome face and his perfect amount of stubble with his intense green eyes and pouty, soft lips that felt good  _ everywhere.  _ Fuck his broad shoulders and slim waist and his thick thighs. Fuck everything about Dean Winchester. He was demanding and self-assured and stubborn and such a fucking  _ tease  _ and no one had given him any right to be so fucking good at it. 

Great, now you were pissed off that your boyfriend was so fucking perfect. 

You could feel your skin getting hotter the angrier you got, your palms were getting sweaty as you tugged yet again on your cuffs. Biting down on your gag you grunted. You needed to let this anger out, you were going to explode there was so much pent up inside you. Dean crouched down, eye level with you. There was a knowing smirk on his previously-established-perfect lips, and you wanted to slap it off. He reached up and tugged the gag free from between your lips. 

“Wanna repeat yourself?” he asked.    
“Fuck you,” you spat, lips tingling and jaw aching from being held open. Your chin was soaked in spit that dripped onto your naked breasts. 

“That’s what you wanna do, huh?” he teased. “You wanna fuck me?” His green eyes were moving between yours. His voice was low and calm and everything yours wasn’t. 

“You’re a dick,” you complained, “why are you so fucking hell bent on making me angry?” you spat. Dean chuckled a little.   
“Because it’s so freaking adorable,” he cooed.

The anger only bubbled harder inside you.

“I’m not fucking  _ adorable,  _ I’m pissed off!” You seethed. His fingers gripped either side of your jaw as he kept your face in place. 

“Adorable,” he confirmed. You grunted through gritted teeth and as he kissed you, you bit down on his bottom lip in retaliation. It was the only thing you were capable of doing whilst still being tied up.

“Ouch, well I was gonna uncuff you but now I’m gonna have to punish you instead,” Dean sighed, standing back up to full height. Your eyes followed him as you groaned in protest. “Wanna keep pushing me, sweetheart? Because I can go all day,” he smirked. 

“Urgh, fuck you! Just fuck me already!” You shouted out. There was a darkness that flashed over Dean’s eyes for a second as his eyebrows raised at your outburst. But clearly, you’d missed the memo to shut up because you kept going, “why have you got to tease me so fucking much, just fuck me, I need you to fuck me!” Your voice was echoing around the room. Dean licked his lips quickly before stepping directly in front of you, reaching down and lifting you to your feet effortlessly so you were not quite so short now. 

He reached behind you and worked on uncuffing you. Once your hands were free you brought them around to your front and rubbed your wrists a little.

“Okay, we’re done here,” he told you. You were speechless. Done?  _ Done?  _ How the fuck were you done when you hadn’t had sex, you hadn’t even  _ cum,  _ his dick wasn’t even out!  _ Done?! _

“What do you mean we’re done?” you spat, shock in your voice. 

“Session’s over. I’m gonna go and run a bath and we’ll start aftercare,” he informed you.

“Aftercare?!” You spluttered, “but there’s nothing to take  _ care  _ of, Dean!” you shouted. His face remained neutral as he sorted out the cuffs he’d taken off of you and threw them down to the floor. 

You wondered if you’d pissed  _ him  _ off. But he didn’t seem angry. He just seemed...you couldn’t even tell, there was nothing on his face to give away what the hell he was thinking. He was composed and calm and as in complete control as always whilst you slowly spiralled more and more into a rage. 

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to tease me and then leave me hanging!” You complained. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” he shrugged. Your eyes narrowed. You kissed his mouth hard and as hard as you could, pushed on his shoulders as he stumbled backwards, his ass landing on the bed. You were quick to climb onto his lap, straddling him as you leaned down to his face. 

“I’m gonna fuck  _ you, _ ” you told him determindly. 

Dean chuckled a little as he easily encased your wrists in his hands and once again trapped them at your back. 

“That right, princess?” he smirked. You fought against him, by some miracle breaking free from his grip. For some reason your instinctive response was to wrap a hand around Dean’s throat as you started to squeeze. Dean’s reaction was not what you were expecting. A soft groan bled from his lips as he looked up at you. Your other hand reached between your legs, pushing its way into his grey sweatpants and easily pulling free his surprisingly hard cock as it throbbed in your palm. “Don’t you dare, sweetheart,” Dean warned you, a little croaky from your grip. But you ignored him, rubbing the tip along your aching sex for barely a second, just enough to coat it with your slick before you lowered your hips straight down onto him.

Dean groaned quietly, breath uneven as his green eyes locked on yours. You eased up your grip around his neck a little. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, baby girl,” he tsked. But you assumed his threat was empty because he didn’t make any moves to punish you. You lifted and dropped your entire body on his thick length, moaning and mewling at the feeling of finally being full. Your hand slipped from his throat as you held onto his shoulders instead, using them for support. Dean watched as you bounced, not doing anything to help you, but not stopping you either as you felt yourself working closer and closer to the release you’d been desperate for. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, fingers digging into his muscles as your eyes squeezed shut. Your climax was peaking and just as the coil was about to snap…“NO!” You screamed, feeling Dean easily lift you off of him, holding you out of reach from his erection. You hopelessly tried to continue chasing your high, but you could feel it fading fast, you hadn’t quite got to the point of no return. Your whole body squirmed hard in his grasp, fighting against his hold hard as he span you over so you were laying down on the mattress and he was laying over you. Your arms lashed out, you were hitting and clawing at his chest. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” you started to chant. Your whole body was on fire with how much you hated him right then. Dean made no attempt to stop you, he just took it, every hit and scratch. “Fuck me,” you begged at the top of your lungs. 

Dean grabbed both wrists and pinned them above your head in one large hand as the other guided himself back inside your desperate cunt. He thrust hard and fast, exactly like you needed, but it wasn’t enough. He looked angry himself now, the skin on his chest red and marked from your assault as his palm connected with your cheek. The slap stung and the feeling shot straight to your core. 

“Harder,” you grunted out. Dean slapped you again, harder like you’d asked. This one brought tears to your eyes and brought you right to the edge. Your cheek was throbbing, you could hear the blood rushing around your head as your heart worked hard to pump it.

“You wanna cum, huh?” he asked you, eyes squinted as they concentrated on your face. You glared up at him. Yes you did, and you were going to, with or without his permission. But you weren’t about to let him know that until it was too late. His fingers combed through your hair as he tugged it hard. “Work for it,” he told you.

“Fuck you,” you spat. Dean flipped you over so you were back on top. Fuck him, you deserved to cum. You wrapped your hand around his throat again, his own hand gripping your wrist, but he didn’t pull you away.

“Y/N,” he warned. You leaned down, mouth inches from his ear.

“Isn’t this what you want, baby?” you whispered, “didn’t you want to make me mad?” Dean’s blunt fingernails dug into your wrist as you felt him thrust up into you hard, his whole body shaking as he came. It was all you needed to tip you over the edge as you came just as hard around him. Your hand slipped from his throat as you clawed at his chest again, moaning and squeezing your eyes shut tightly as every nerve ending seemed to set alight.

You might’ve cum hard, but you crashed harder, your whole body slumping on top of him as you sobbed into his neck. Dean held you tightly and stroked your back with his fingertips, kissing your hairline as he soothed you. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he whispered. “That was good, really good,” he reassured you. In the heat of the moment you didn’t think twice about what you’d said but now the adrenaline had drained from your system, you couldn’t believe those words had come from your mouth. You didn’t know why you were so angry. You were angry at Sam, of course, for not only what he did last year but also for thinking saying sorry would fix things. You were angry at Dean for keeping secrets. But most importantly, you were angry with yourself for letting the entire situation control you like it did. 

“I’m sorry, De,” you sobbed out, upon taking in the marks you’d left on his skin. 

“You needed to let it out, sweetheart,” he reassured you, “ you needed to let go.” 

“You-you wanted me to do this?” you asked. 

“I wanted you to deal with the anger,” he explained, tucking some hair behind your ear as he looked up at you. His fingers traced the side of your face delicately, moving to brush over your quivering lips. “C’mon, let’s have a bath,” he whispered. You nodded in agreement as you carefully climbed off of him. He slid out from underneath you and pulled his sweatpants back up to his hips, heading straight over to the mini fridge before pulling out a can of lemonade. He grabbed two glasses and split the can equally. It was the same every time and you could already taste the sweet bubbles on your tongue, calming and grounding you. 

Dean handed you your glass and then kept his hand out so he could help you off of the bed. He guided you to the bathroom and started to run the water. Sitting in your usual chair by the bath you watched him pour bubbles into the tub and add some bath salts. His chest looked red and angry, some scratches looked painful as you winced. You felt awful that you’d done that to him. You had no problem with getting your own marks like that, you actually quite liked them. But knowing you’d inflicted them on Dean made you uncomfortable. 

After soaking in the bath together for a good 20 minutes, you got out and wrapped the warm fluffy robe around you. Dean reached for some soothing lotion from the side as he beckoned you closer with his fingers. He rubbed some into your cheek gently, where he’d struck you. It stung a little at first, but soon it eased and you felt a little better. You grabbed the lotion from him gently and pumped some onto your fingers, carefully working it into his chest. He hissed a little at first, but silently looked down at you with warm eyes, watching you work. 

“You don’t have to, sweetheart, I can sort myself out,” he told you. 

“No, De, I did this. You deserve aftercare too,” you told him, quietly but firmly. Dean nodded gently and let you continue. “I’m sorry,” you said again. Dean placed his much larger hand over yours, stopping it from rubbing in the lotion as he held it at his chest.

“Don’t be sorry,” he demanded softly. “I’m a big boy, I can handle myself. If this was too much I would’ve used our safeword,” he reminded you. “It works both ways, Y/N, you trust me with this stuff and I trust you.” You nodded a little and he let go of your hand, letting you continue. 

You looked up at his face after a moment.

“I don’t want to do that again, I don’t like it,” you blushed. Dean laughed quietly and nodded his head.

“It’s not my thing either if I’m honest,” he agreed. You felt relieved to hear that. You didn’t want him to suddenly want to switch it all up at all. What had happened was a one off. It wasn’t you and it never would be. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel better for it. 

“Good, let’s just keep the pecking order as it is then,” you giggled. 

“That sounds good to me, sweetheart.”


	7. Trust

_ 3 Weeks Later _

“How do you feel when you think about Sam being around now?” Mandy asked softly. You took a deep breath. 

“It is what it is,” you shrugged a little, picking at the hem of your skirt. 

“Do you still get your panic attacks?” she checked. You shook your head. “How long since your last one? Two weeks is it?” 

“Yeah, something like that,” you agreed. Ever since Dean had given you that unconventional anger management session you’d been feeling a lot better. It still bothered you that Sam was around, you still very much didn’t want to see him, but at least now, when you thought about him being in the country, the walls didn’t close around you so you couldn’t breathe. 

“Why don’t we go over that evening again?” Mandy asked, “remind me what Sam said,” she leaned forward a little on her notebook. You cleared your throat and shook your head.

“I don’t really remember,” you shrugged. Mandy’s eyebrows raised.

“No?” she prompted. 

“I mean, I remember that he was trying to apologise, but I don’t remember specifically what he said,” you told her honestly. A small smile graced her lips.

“Okay,” she nodded, sitting back. “You know, Y/N, that’s really good news. It means you’ve not been fixating on it,” she informed you. You felt like you had, but that whole evening was starting to become a blur, anyway. For the most part, all you could remember was the panic attack Dean pulled you out of in the bathroom, and how you’d snapped at him on the drive home, accusing him of knowing that Sam would be there. 

You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously for a moment as you thought about earlier on the day of the ball and John’s words. The last few sessions with Mandy had focused solely on coping with your panic attacks again, relearning breathing techniques and talking through everything that had triggered you. But now that it was starting to bother you less, your mind had shifted back to Dean and his secrets. What was he keeping from you? What did John want you to find out about Jess? And what was the camera that he was talking about? 

You’d racked your brains over the camera comment for days and the only thing you’d come up with was when Dean took photos and filmed you on his phone. But you already knew about that, and you trusted Dean with that, trusted he wouldn’t have shown anyone or posted any of it anywhere. So what if that’s what it was? What if he’d betrayed your trust and your private life was there for anyone to see on some pornsite somewhere? Just the thought made you feel a little sick. 

“There’s something else that’s been bothering me,” you spoke up, clearing your throat a little. “Not about Sam but Dean.” Mandy’s eyebrows twitched into a frown for a second before her face went back to be neutral. She didn’t say anything, so you continued. “I overheard Dean talking to John the day of the ball. He asked Dean if he’d told me yet about what really happened to Jess,” you explained. She still didn’t say anything, just started to write in her notepad. “I’m sure it’s nothing, I’m sure it’s silly but John seemed to be really pushing Dean to tell me whatever it is. And the longer it takes for Dean to tell me, the worse it gets in my head.”

“What do you know about Jess?” Mandy asked. 

“All I know is what Sam told me. So I realise the source isn’t the most reliable. But he told me that their apartment caught fire and Dean rescued him, but it was too late for Jess and she died. I looked it up online and that’s what all the articles had to say about it too. So I’m assuming there’s more to the story, but I don’t know what, and that makes me uncomfortable. But, if it was really that bad, Dean would tell me right? He wouldn’t have let me date Sam if he thought he was dangerous would he? So it can’t be that bad...I mean just because Sam’s the bad guy in my story doesn’t mean he’s the bad guy in hers. Maybe she was the bad guy...maybe that’s what made Sam insecure and that’s why he…” you swallowed hard, your mind racing a million miles an hour as you thought out loud, “maybe that’s why he attacked me,” you concluded.

“Maybe,” Mandy agreed, though she didn’t sound convinced. “Y/N, have you asked Dean about this?” You opened your mouth to speak but you were speechless. Like the very simple thought hadn’t occurred to you. With everything else that had been going on, your mind was jumbled. 

“No,” you told her simply. Mandy smiled softly.

“It could be nothing, like you say, it could be something to do with Jess and not Sam, you’re not going to know until you talk to him about it. There’s no point stressing about it until you know the truth.” Mandy always made a lot of sense and you nodded in agreement. You knew the sensible thing to do was to ask Dean directly. 

*

“Is it okay?” Dean asked, nodding at your plate of paella. You took a sip of your wine and nodded softly.

“Great,” you mumbled. 

“It’s just you’ve not really touched it,” he noted. You picked up your fork and moved the food around your plate a little for a moment. Dean was a good cook, it definitely wasn’t the food that was wrong. “Everything okay?” he prompted. You picked up your napkin and dabbed your lips as you cleared your throat. 

“De,” you spoke up before you could change your mind, “what happened to Jess?” you asked. Dean had never told you his side of the story when it came to Jess, you weren’t sure you’d ever even spoken about her with him in any context. Dean dropped his own fork and cleared his throat. 

“The truth?” he asked. 

“Of course I want the truth,” you frowned.

Dean took a deep breath and licked his lips a little before wiping them dry again with his thumb. 

“I obviously don’t know the full story, I know my version and I know Sam’s version. After she died and Sam started therapy his story changed a little. But we’ve got a pretty good idea of the truth,” Dean started to explain. You stayed quiet and listened intently. Your heart was beating in your throat, stomach knotting and if you were hungry before, you definitely weren’t now. You needed to do something with your hands so you picked up your wine glass and let your fingers swirl around the rim. Dean seemed hesitant, maybe it really was bad. Maybe you didn’t need to know, what difference was it going to make? Jess was dead and Sam was no longer in your life. Knowing wouldn’t change any of that. But you’d asked now.

“Sam and Jess got into an argument the night of the fire,” Dean started. “She was packing her bags to leave and Sam got angry and he threw a bottle of whiskey into the fire which caused it to explode and spread. When I got there, Jess was out cold on the bed, she had some glass in her shoulder, we assume from the explosion, and Sam was barely conscious on the floor,” Dean took another breath, “I chose to save Sam first, and maybe that was wrong of me, but he was my brother, I couldn’t leave him there. So I promised him I’d go back for Jess but by the time I got us out there was a second explosion, the fire had gotten to the gas pipes. I couldn’t save her.” He finished with a whisper. 

It wasn’t  _ that  _ bad. So Sam was the one that started the fire, you figured he was capable of that, but unless he did it on purpose, it wasn’t his fault. Even if he did do it on purpose, as far as Dean was concerned he hadn’t. Why had he kept that from you? 

“Do you know what the argument was about?” you asked quietly. Dean drew another deep breath and took a sip of his whiskey. 

“Yeah...urm, apparently she was flirting with another guy and Sam got jealous.” He didn’t look at you, just down at his glass. 

It took a moment for you to realise what Dean was saying. He was saying that Sam had a history with letting jealousy get the better of him. Afterall, that’s what had sparked his attack on you. He was jealous of Dean. You swallowed hard. Why did Dean think it was a good idea to  _ share you  _ with his brother who had jealousy issues?

“Why didn’t you tell me before you let me date him?” you asked, a little breathless. Dean’s face was full of remorse as he continued to fiddle with his whiskey tumbler. 

“It wasn’t my place,” Dean sighed. “I tried to keep you away from each other, but when you called things off with me I couldn’t control it any more and I wasn’t to know you’d sleep with him,” Dean huffed. 

Dean had a point about that part. 

“Okay, but why did you then agree to share me with someone who clearly had jealousy problems?”

“It was the only way to get you back and keep you safe.”

“But you didn’t keep me safe, did you?” you spat out, instantly regretting your words. You knew Dean felt responsible for what had happened. You’d spent months reassuring him you didn’t blame him, but that was before you knew the full story.

“Y/N I-” Dean spluttered, “I’m sorry, I thought he was better, I asked him over and over again if he was in control and he promised me he was. He’d had therapy and rehab and...”

“ _ Therapy and rehab? _ ” you choked out. 

“He- he got quite possessive with Jess but he worked through it and he was doing better,” Dean defended.

“Clearly he wasn’t,” you snapped. 

“I know, and in hindsight I knew then too, that’s why I blame myself for what happened to you, I should’ve seen it coming after he…” Dean stopped himself. 

“After he what, Dean?” you pressed, feeling the anger bubbling inside you. Dean huffed and closed his eyes for a moment. 

“I could see that he was getting attached to you, he was sleeping with girls that looked like you.” You remembered the one particular girl Dean was referring to, how you noticed she looked similar to you but never thought anything of it. “And then he...he planted a camera in your room.” Dean sighed. 

“WHAT?!” You shouted, slamming your glass back down on the table. You felt sick. “Why am I only just finding out about this?!”

“I found it before he could use it and I confronted him about it,” Dean explained.

“I don’t fucking care what you did, you should’ve told me! He was going to spy on me, he was going to spy on  _ us  _ and you didn’t tell me?!” Your anger was getting stronger and stronger. How could Dean keep all this from you? You trusted him and he’d betrayed you. “And you  _ still  _ let me be alone with him? You were meant to protect me, Dean. I trusted you to protect me!” Dean didn’t say anything for a moment and you saw his eyes glass over. 

“I thought letting him be with you would help, and you wanted to be with him, I was trying to give you what you wanted,” he told you weakly.

“Bullshit, Dean! What I wanted was you, but you were too scared to admit you liked me! I never would have looked at Sam twice if you’d have just been a man and given in to your feelings for me from the start! And you really must’ve been stupid to think that Sam being with me would  _ help.”  _ Your whole body was heating up with rage as you rose to your feet. You needed to get out of there. 

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry…” Dean started. You cut him off, holding your hand up. 

“Don’t, Dean,” you warned him. “I can’t...I trusted you. There’s a hell of a lot I trusted you with and I can’t anymore,” you confessed, tears filling your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, let me make it up to you, let me prove you can trust me,” he pleaded. You couldn’t think straight.. 

“No I...I need time to process all this,” you told him, “I need space.” Dean sighed but nodded gently. 

“Okay, I’ll sleep in the guesthouse tonight,” he agreed.

“No, Dean, I think it’s best if I leave.”   
“Leave? For how long?” he choked out. 

“Indefinitely.” 


	8. Unhealthy

** _10 Months Ago_ **

_ “Mornin’ sweetheart,” Dean chirped from his place at the table. The room service cart was in the corner of the room and all the breakfast food anyone could ever need was laid out on display across the dining table. You pulled your gown tie tighter and smiled at him, making your way over to sit on his lap. Dean put his paper down and ran a hand along the top of your bare thigh. You kissed him softly. You still couldn’t believe you got to do that now. His lips were always so pillowy soft and warm. You loved kissing him. “Want some coffee?” he asked, already reaching for the pot. You nodded and watched as he poured you a cup. He kissed your cheek and then the side of your head as you turned and grabbed the cup, taking a mouthful of the rich black liquid.  _

_ “You sleep okay?” he checked. _

_ “Yeah, that bed is incredible. We need to find out what mattress it is,” you giggled before reaching for a few strawberries and nibbling on one.  _

_ “If that’s the mattress you want, that’s the mattress we’ll get,” Dean agreed with a smile. You smiled warmly at him and kissed his cheek.  _

_ “Any news on the house?” you asked, biting into the second strawberry. _

_ “The sex room is being renovated as we speak,” he smirked. You rolled your eyes and laughed a little. It was still absolutely ridiculous to you that you were getting a ‘sex room’ like some terrible porn movie. But Dean had insisted and if you were honest, his reasonings were fair enough. Your new therapist, Mandy, had encouraged there was a clear separation between your sex life and your love life, at least whilst you were still getting over what had happened.  _

_ But you tried not to think about that, you were feeling good today and nothing was going to take that away from you. Not even  _ ** _him. _ **

_ “You know, I like the tiles in the bathroom here,” you commented. They were a cream colour with tiny flecks of gold in them that just made them look stunning.  _

_ “Guess I’m finding out about those too then, huh?” Dean smirked. “Which bathroom would you like them in?” he asked. You bit your lip as you thought for a moment. _ _   
_ _ “Our en suite,” you smiled.  _

_ “Deal,” Dean agreed with a soft smile. You leaned down and kissed him.  _

_ “You’re the best, De,” you sighed happily.  _

_ Dean reached up and kissed you again, this time a little deeper as his lips parted slightly and he let his tongue snake into your mouth. Your one arm curled around the back of his neck, the other reaching up to cup his face as you indulged in the feeling of kissing him like you’d spent so long imagining before. Between your legs started to tingle, arousal slowly pouring into your core. It had taken its time to return, but you were finally feeling ready to be intimate again.  _

_ “Hm, I think…” you stopped to continue kissing him for a second before you continued, “I’d like to...go back to bed,” you whispered. You were a little nervous. You’d never had to come onto Dean before thanks to the nature of your relationship normally. But it had been made very clear several times now that the ball was completely in your court now when it came to sex. It was totally on your terms. When you were ready and not a second sooner. Dean had been very adamant about that.  _

_ The hand of Dean’s that was still on your thigh rubbed back and forth a little for a second. _

_ “Are you sure? I’m more than happy to keep making out like this, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” Dean smirked against your lips. You chuckled and kissed him harder, even more passionate still.  _

_ “I’m pretty sure if you could feel between my legs right now, you’d know just how sure I am,” you purred. _

_ “Yeah?” he asked, green eyes flickering up to you as they half lidded with lust. You knew he was silently asking permission. You placed a hand on top of his and encouraged it to slide higher up your thigh.  _

_ “I need you, De, been thinking about it for too long,” you whispered.  _

_ His fingertips barely brushed over your sex as you gasped. The feeling was electrifying. It sent sparks through your entire body. You’d forgotten how much you missed his touch.  _

_ “Fuck, that right, sweetheart?” he grumbled lowly. Biting down on your bottom lip, you nodded again, opening your legs that little bit wider. “You sure?” Dean checked, his other hand combing your hair back a little as he held your head steady to look at him. You thought on it for barely one more second before nodding your head. You were sure. “Before we do…” Dean’s hand slipped away for a moment and you groaned, a little frustrated. “I just wanna put a colour code in place,” he told you. You frowned a little. _

_ “De, don’t ruin the moment,” you complained, trying to kiss him again. _

_ “Darling, I’m serious. I just would feel more comfortable if we did this,” he explained. You sat up and huffed a little. You wanted to be mad but you knew he only had your best interests at heart. _

_ “Okay,” you agreed.  _

_ “Green means everything is fine, orange means you’re reaching your limits but don’t want to stop and red means stop,” he told you, like he’d already thought about this in great detail which, knowing Dean, he had. You simply nodded. _

_ “But De…” you hesitated, “we aren’t gonna…” you swallowed hard, “you won’t…” _

_ “No, sweetheart, we’ll take it slow. I just want to be sure,” he reassured you without you even having to finish your sentence. You sighed relieved and nodded.  _

_ Your fingers reached up to trace his slightly swollen lips before you kissed him again. The arousal that had started to fade was back in an instant. Dean kissed you deeper, as you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. He lifted you with ease as he rose to his feet, an arm hooking under your legs to carry you bridal style back to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed gently and continued to kiss you deep and slow as he lay down beside you and leaned over you.  _

_ “You sure, sweetheart?” he checked again. _

_ “Yeah, De, I want to. I trust you.” _

  
  


** _Back to Present_ **

You had been staring at the empty space next to you for at least 20 minutes now. If you hadn’t run out of tears almost a week ago, you’d probably cry about it. But you were starting to feel a little numb about the whole situation now. You sat up and rubbed your sleep heavy eyes as you yawned. Sleeping hadn’t been easy for you since Dean had moved out of the house. He had insisted that you stayed home whilst he moved back into the Manor for a while. Just until you got things sorted. You had no doubt that Dean would insist you keep the house even though you paid absolutely nothing towards it and would never be able to buy it off him. That was just the type of guy Dean was.

But he was also a liar and untrustworthy. He’d kept things from you that you had every right to know. Things that would’ve kept you safe. You would never have wanted to be with Sam if you’d have known the truth about Jess. You would’ve realised that asking him to share you with someone else when he clearly had problems with jealousy was a  _ very bad  _ idea. You realised that Dean was painfully loyal to his family, but he also had a responsibility as your dominant to keep you safe and he’d failed to do that. 

*

You sighed as you looked around the familiar room. You’d started to hate the wallpaper that was always in your eye line behind Mandy. It was made to look like a bookcase with books on it. At first you’d spent ages reading every ‘book title’ and memorising what order colours the books were in. You’d noted how realistic it looked. But now it annoyed you. Now, therapy in general was just an inconvenience that you resented needing. 

“Why don’t we talk about why you’re angry today,” Mandy said before you’d even made a sound. She was good at reading you, though you figured it was her job. 

“I’m pissed off with Dean,” you grunted.

“Why?”

“Because if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have to be here,” you huffed, “no offence.” 

“I see,” Mandy nodded. “So did Dean tell Sam to assault you?” she asked.

“Well no…” You frowned. You knew where she was going with this. “But he could’ve stopped it. He knew Sam’s history and he still let me be with him!”

Mandy was quiet for a moment as she thought about what to say.

“Y/N, I understand you are mad at Dean for keeping those secrets and you have every right to be. But what happened to you wasn’t Dean’s fault and it wasn’t your fault. The only person who’s fault it was is Sam’s. Sam was the one that chose to do that. Dean was trying to protect you and give you what you want, he went a bad way about it, but I do believe he was doing what he thought was right for everyone at the time. He was in a tough situation,” Mandy explained. You frowned a little. You hated when Mandy was logical and didn’t always side with you. You knew she had a point but you didn’t want to give Dean an excuse for what he did. 

“I’m just so mad that he betrayed my trust like that! I can never trust him again!” you grunted. 

“Y/N, I know you are feeling betrayed at the moment, but I want you to remember all the times that you were right to trust Dean. You have trusted him with a lot since you’ve known him, from sexual activities to his help with your recovery. If he was completely untrustworthy he wouldn’t have been able to help you like he has.” Mandy had raised yet another good point and you huffed again, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“So what? You’re saying I should forgive him? Get back together with him?” you asked.

“Forgive him, maybe, when you’re ready. Get back together with him? No, not right now. I actually think time apart would be good for you,” she smiled softly. 

Suddenly, you felt uncomfortable. You didn’t like that Mandy wanted you and Dean to be broken up. Although you didn’t want to admit it, you were almost hoping she’d tell you what a mistake you’d made, that you should get back with him. So the fact that she agreed with your break up upset you a little.

“Why?” you croaked out. 

“Because, Y/N, you had an unhealthy dependency on Dean. This was something we were going to address once other things had settled down, but as you’ve been put in this situation I think now is a good time to really look at your relationship with him, what you needed from him, what you took and what you gave back in return. I think if you ever want to get back together with him and make it work, we need to look at how we can make that healthy.”

You were a little speechless. You’d never thought of your relationship with Dean as unhealthy in any way. It made sense that you were somewhat dependent on him because you were his submissive, but it wasn’t  _ unhealthy  _ was it? 

“If you truly want to move on from what happened, Y/N, you need to do it yourself for yourself. And if you want to ever be in a truly happy relationship with Dean, you need to love yourself first, and I think you did once, but with everything you’ve been through, naturally you’ve lost that. Let’s take this time to work on you, yeah?” she asked. You bit your bottom lip, once again Mandy was making a lot of sense. You took a deep breath and nodded. If things were ever going to work out with Dean, you wanted it to be healthy and good for you. And if they didn’t, you needed to be happy without him; an idea that seemed impossible right then. 


	9. Progress

The last two therapy sessions you’d had with Mandy had focused solely on becoming independent of Dean. A lot of what she was saying didn’t really seem to make sense to you and you didn’t really feel like you’d made any progress at all. Every time you thought of Dean you felt upset and missed him. You felt anxious and uncomfortable. You had trouble making decisions without him, you had trouble falling asleep alone. In fact, everything without Dean just felt wrong. The house felt bigger and nothing like a home. You weren’t eating properly because Dean was always the main cook in the house. You felt bad going out and spending any money, because it wasn’t yours to spend. You considered getting a job, but things with Dean didn’t feel completely over and any type of future with or without him was hazy in your mind. 

It was when you experienced your first panic attack without Dean around to help that things changed for you. You were in your closet trying to decide what to wear when Dean’s hundreds of plaid flannel shirts caught your eye. One in particular, a blue one that reminded you of one similar that Sam wore that day. It was something that had never bothered you before, but for some reason, right then, it did. You could feel the room getting hotter, the walls getting closer as you struggled to breathe and had to grip the island in the middle of the room for support. You tried your breathing techniques and you tried to go to your ‘happy place’, focusing on your breathing. Opening your eyes, you searched for 5 things you could see. 

“Red shirt, green skirt, black heels, white handbag, brown boots,” you muttered to yourself. It was helping, so you moved on to four things you can feel. Glass, smooth beneath your fingertips as you looked down to see some of your jewellery on display underneath. Wood around the glass, soft carpet under your feet, the soft fabric of your night shirt skimming your thigh. 

As you went to move on to three things you could hear you realised you felt better. Your chest wasn’t so tight and you were able to stand up straight again. You were okay, you’d made it out. Most importantly, you’d done it without Dean. It was like a switch was flicked in your head. You could do this, you could do these things on your own. You didn’t need Dean, or anyone for that matter. Everything that Mandy had been saying started to make sense in your mind. Before now, you would’ve panicked until you knew Dean could rescue you. You would’ve waited for him to save you and you needed him to feel okay again. Your progress massively depended on him. But you’d just pulled yourself out of a panic attack alone. 

You wanted to be better, not so you could be better for Dean or give him everything you used to have with him. You didn’t want to get better because you felt bad that he had to deal with your episodes or do things he wouldn’t normally. You wanted to get better for you, because you deserved to be better and Sam didn’t deserve the time you were wasting on him. Your epiphany had put a spring in your step as you looked through your clothes for something to reflect your new happy mood.

You were still elated with your discovery after getting dressed, you wanted to tell  _ someone.  _ You didn’t let it bother you for too long that you were alone and Dean wasn’t there to share your good news with. You made your way downstairs and saw Mitchell stood by the front door as usual.

“Morning, Mitch,” you chirped. A smile lit up his face.

“Morning, Y/N, you’re in a good mood today,” he noted.

“I am!” You agreed. You hummed to yourself as you made your way into the kitchen. You were going to make waffles. You liked waffles and for once you actually felt like making the effort to feed yourself. You grabbed your ingredients and collected them on the island in the middle of the kitchen, turning the waffle iron on to heat up. 

You had turned the radio on and you were humming and dancing along to it as you worked on your breakfast. Your phone buzzed next to you, so you dusted your hands of flour on your apron and picked it up.

** _Dean: _ ** Hey, please can we meet up today to discuss some things? X

You took a deep breath, your good mood fading a little. Seeing his name on the screen, his little profile photo next to it made a lump form in your throat. You loved that photo of him. You’d taken it during a date night and he just looked so happy and relaxed in it. Suddenly you didn’t feel so free of him. You still wanted him, you still loved him. But you thought you were finally independent, so why couldn’t you shake this feeling? You could see the many similar messages above the latest one. 

** _Dean: _ ** Hey, can we talk? X

** _Y/N: _ ** Not today.

** _Dean: _ ** Hey, please can we meet up? X

** _Y/N: _ ** Not today sorry.

He had given you two weeks of no contact, but this last week, he’d started to reach out. You didn’t want to see him, you knew if you did you’d crack. You knew you still wanted him and you knew you wouldn’t be strong at all if he was stood there in front of you. You didn’t  _ want  _ to forgive him. He was still in the wrong, what he did was still bad. But you couldn’t help but think about everything Mandy had told you. He  _ was  _ trustworthy. He messed up, everyone does, but he wasn’t to know what was going to happen and maybe he was just trying his best in a shitty situation. But you’d been able to trust him with so much more and he’d never given you any other reason not to. You honestly didn’t know what to do. Taking a deep breath you scrolled through your contacts and called Mandy. Maybe she could give you some advice. 

You’d told her all about your morning’s revelations. About the panic attack you were able to get yourself out of and how everything she’d been telling you was starting to make sense. She told you how pleased she was to hear that and that it sounded like you’d made great progress, which you were very happy to hear.

“But, then Dean texted me this morning about meeting up,” you sighed. “Mandy, as soon as I saw his name I felt happy, I miss him and I still love him. Maybe I’ve not made as much progress as we thought,” you mumbled, slowly mixing the waffle batter. “I know you think I should let him go, and I could but I don’t want to.”

“Oh, Y/N, I never said you should let him go. I said you should become independent so that if you want to make it work with Dean it’s for healthy reasons,” Mandy started to explain and a slither of hope returned that maybe you didn’t have to give him up after all. “The key to what you just told me is that you  _ could  _ give him up but that you don’t  _ want  _ to. That’s where I wanted you to be,” she continued. “Y/N, there’s  _ needing  _ someone and then there’s  _ wanting  _ them. Needing someone like you needed Dean is unhealthy but there’s nothing wrong with wanting someone,” she reassured you. 

“So, meeting up with Dean is okay? It doesn’t mean I’m not making progress?” you asked, hopeful.

“Just ask yourself why you’re doing it. Always ask yourself why. Is it because you feel like you need to or just because you really want to?” she advised. 

You decided to think on it whilst you made and ate your waffles. You didn’t  _ need  _ to see Dean. The world wouldn’t end if you didn’t see him, you’d be okay, you wouldn’t feel worse if you didn’t. But the thought of seeing him again excited you. You missed him, his face, his voice. But you had to be sure if you did meet up with him, you were going to be strong. You couldn’t just let him off the hook. You couldn’t just accept the first apology that comes out of his mouth. And things couldn’t go back to normal. Not immediately. If you were going to get back together, you were going to have give it time for Dean to regain your trust and he needed to realise that. You needed to know his loyalties lay with you now and not Sam, so something like that never happened again. And could you ask him to choose between you? Was that fair?

*

You took a deep breath as you sat in the back of the car. Luke was stood holding the door open for you, but you weren’t ready to get out yet. You were nervous. What if, when you saw him, it changed everything? What if everything you’d worked hard on the last three weeks went out of the window and you needed him again? What if you thought you could forgive him but you couldn’t and years down the line it becomes a problem again? You took another breath and slowly climbed out of the car, looking up at your favourite restaurant.  _ Of course  _ he wanted to meet you here. He knew what this place meant to you.  _ Very clever, Dean. _

You frowned as you realised the name had changed. **_The Globe. _**It had only been three weeks since you were last there and apparently a lot had changed already. You didn’t think too much of it and made your way inside which had also changed a little. The first thing you came to was a gold globe that stood in the centre of a large floral arrangement on a table. You approached it slowly, butterflies in your stomach as you recognised the globe. It was the one from Dean’s office in the manor. You stared at it a lot during your first discussion over a year ago now. It was the reason your safe word was _Globe._ You’d never seen it up close before. It was exquisite. The detail was second to none, names of countries delicately engraved in fancy script. It was so shiny you could see yourself in the reflection. 

The deep mahogany table that it sat on top of was polished perfectly and your fingers traced the engraving that was along it.  ** _I’ll go anywhere, as long as it’s with you. _ ** You smiled and reached out to brush your fingers through the delicate petals of the roses and gypsophila. It was slowly sinking in what all this was. This was all for you. Dean had done all this for you. He’d named the restaurant for you, the globe was special to you both. But how? He must’ve bought the place. It made sense, you supposed. The family business did deal with restaurants, so it wasn’t exactly out of his comfort zone.

“Miss Y/L/N?” you turned around to see the waiter that normally served you. You smiled warmly at him. You were pleased to see Dean hadn’t changed some things about the place. “If you’d like to follow me?” he prompted.

You were lead out to the veranda where all the other tables had been cleared, just one table set up in the middle and Dean was stood alongside it. He looked good, a shirt with the top couple of buttons undone and suit trousers. You felt nervous as your legs carried you towards him. It felt like the day you met him all over again. 

“You know, when I tell you to surprise me, for once I’d like it to actually be a surprise,” you spoke up, trying to break the ice straight away. “Like maybe Paris or...Venice,” you looked around the veranda, never growing tired of how beautiful it was even after all this time. 

Dean laughed quietly and nodded his head.

“Noted,” he agreed. “Buying a restaurant and personalising it isn’t enough,” he joked. You smiled softly. 

“So this is yours now then?” you asked, still stood in the entrance to the veranda. 

“No, it’s yours.” Your eyes snapped to Dean’s as they widened. 

“What?” you spluttered out.

“This is yours. It’s in your name, well once you sign the papers it will be, anyway,” Dean explained. 

“What? Why?” you asked, confused. 

“To say sorry. And because I wanted you to have something that’s yours and only yours. Whether we break up or not, I want you to have this.” You didn’t say anything, you didn’t know what to say or even think. You were overwhelmed. “You can change whatever you want, if you don’t like the name or…”   
  


“No, it’s perfect,” you interrupted him. “Dean, I...I don’t know anything about running a restaurant,” you told him. 

“That’s why you hire people who do, they will do all the hard work, you just have to tell them what you want,” he smiled. “I can help you as much as you want, or I can find someone else to…”

“Is this why you’ve done this? So that I’ll need you?” you asked.

“No, Y/N, not at all,” Dean shook his head.

“Because me and Mandy have been working really hard the last few weeks to get me to a place where I don’t need you anymore and I’m finally there, I’m finally independent. I don’t need you anymore, Dean,” you told him. The disappointment washed over his face as he looked down to his feet.

“I get it, Y/N,” he grumbled. 

“But I still want you,” you finished. His green eyes shot up to you, full of hope. “But, I have one condition,” you explained.

“Yeah, anything,” Dean agreed. You knew it was a big ask, one you weren’t sure you had a right to ask him, but it was the only way you could see a future with him.

“You have to choose me over your brother. Not just right now but every day, every single time there’s a choice for the rest of our lives.”


	10. Always

_ 6 Years Later _

“Hold still!” You complained, trying desperately to get the end of the tie through the loop. 

“But Momma, I don’t wanna wear a tie,” he complained, scrunching up his nose. You smirked a little.

“I’m afraid you have to, buddy,” you sighed. 

“Is Daddy wearing one?” he asked. 

“He sure is!” You turned to see your husband coming out of the closet as he straightened the red tie in question. “You’re gonna be dressed like me today, dude.” Your son’s face lit up, his green eyes sparkling in excitement. 

“Okay, so now will you hold still?” you asked with a giggle. He nodded his head quickly and stayed perfectly still so you could finish. “There, all done, why don’t you go and play in your room until we’re ready to go?” you smiled. Before you could say another word he was gone. “But don’t mess up your clothes!” you called after him. 

You stood back up to full height and turned to your dresser as you grabbed some perfume and sprayed some on your wrists. You felt hands run over your hips to the front of you and looked up into the mirror with a smile. 

“You look beautiful.” You blushed and turned tilted your head to the side as you felt lips press to your neck.

“Dean, we definitely don’t have time for this,” you giggled. 

“Do you know the last time I got you in that sex room, Mrs Winchester?” Dean whispered in your ear. Goosebumps erupted over your skin as you bit down on your freshly painted lip. “It’s been at least a week.” His fingertips brushed down your arm as he took your hand and guided it behind you, towards his crotch. “Got me pretty pent up, sweetheart.” You could already feel him growing harder beneath his suit trousers. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered, feeling the arousal start to pool between your legs.

“Language, baby girl,” he tsked, a smirk curling on his lips as you caught his eye in the mirror.

“Sorry, Sir,” you whispered. Dean kissed your cheek and stepped back. 

“Come on, or we’ll be late,” he called, leaving the room. God, he was a dick sometimes.

*

“No, darling, you have to stay sat down,” you huffed. 

“But, Momma, I wanna go and see Uncle Bobby.” Dean’s eyes landed on your son as he leaned down close to him. 

“Hey, you do as your mother says or you’re not getting dessert, and I heard there’s pie,” Dean warned. You smirked a little at Dean’s ‘strict dad’ voice and sipped your champagne. He flashed you a wink before he sat up straight. 

“Is there really pie, Mom?” 

“We’ll have to see,” you smiled. 

A glass was clinked and you saw John rise to his feet on the next table over, Lilly by his side. It wasn’t unlike John to make a speech at the annual ball before dessert, usually he droned on about the company for a bit, thanked everyone for their continued support and announced any news. 

“You have to be very quiet now, listen to Grampa,” you whispered to your son. He nodded, and turned to look at John as he started to swing his legs back and forth excitedly. He adored John and John adored him. Since he had been born, he’d brought Dean and John closer together too. Dean seemed to have a new found respect for John and John appreciated that. 

“Thank you everyone for coming. This is our 35th annual ball,” John’s voice echoed around the room effortlessly as his hazel eyes moved over the hall. Everyone applauded and John waited for them to settle before he continued. “Thank you, this wouldn’t be possible without your continued support. There’s actually some news we’d like to share,” he smiled, wrapping his arm around Lilly’s waist. “As you all know, Lilly has been in my life for over 10 years now, and I felt it was probably about time to ask her to be my wife,” he beamed. She looked up at him and blushed as he leaned down and softly kissed her lips. 

Everyone applauded and cheered, including you and Dean. You were so happy when John gave you the news. You’d had a feeling something was going on when he started to reduce the number of girls he had, until it was only Lilly left. Then he started to bring her over to the house for visits, until eventually, they had announced that they were getting married and it all made sense. You could sense that John was nervous about breaking the news to Dean, afraid of what he might think of John replacing Mary. But Dean was truly happy for him and John even thanked him for proving that having a real relationship with your submissive can work. 

You loved seeing John happy and in love, he was like a whole new man. He was soft and kind and gentle and he’d become much more of a family man again, stepping back from the business quite a bit compared to how he used to be. He spent a lot of time with the three of you and you and Lilly had gotten to know each other quite well. 

“So, please, enjoy yourselves tonight,” he smiled, raising his glass.

“To John and Lilly,” Dean announced loudly as everyone toasted. 

“Now is there pie, Momma?” You giggled as you swallowed the champagne and nodded.

“Sure thing, sweetheart, just be a little more patient.” 

“Have you heard from him at all?” Some woman from the legal department was asking Dean.

“Well, he’s quite busy out there and with the time difference, you know, it’s hard to find time.” You just smiled politely, waiting for the conversation to be over. You were used to people asking after Sam now. You could talk about him, pretend you loved the guy and even make up elaborate stories about his life out in Australia, when in actual fact, you had no idea what he was doing out there, and you couldn’t care either, as long as he stayed there. 

“Momma, I’m tired.” You felt a tug on your arm as you looked down and smiled softly.

“You know, Uncle Mitchell can take you home whenever you want, and Sally will be there to take you to bed tonight,” you smiled warmly. You had been so lucky when you found Sally. You'd always hated the thought of having a Nanny, but she was perfect and felt like part of the family almost immediately. 

“But I want you to tuck me in,” he pouted.

“Oh sweetheart, I wish I could but me and Daddy have to stay and do boring adult stuff. But tomorrow, when we get home, I’m gonna make chocolate chip pancakes,” you told him with wide, excited eyes. He beamed and hugged you.

“Yay! Thank you, Momma, I love you.” 

*

“You know...we are now child free for the rest of the night and I doubt anyone would notice if we just…” Dean trailed off, his hand discreetly slipping down your body as he pressed his own tight against you to conceal what he was doing. His green eyes fixed onto yours as he tried to keep his face neutral, “checked into our room,” he concluded as his hand started to slip under the hem of your dress. 

“De,” you whispered, a blush on your cheeks as you looked around the dancefloor. 

“C’mon, baby, it’s been ages,” he complained.

“We had sex yesterday,” you reminded him with a smirk. He leaned his face in close your ear as his breath tickled the shell and evoked goosebumps. 

“Not the kind that Daddy needs,” he purred, his voice deeper and huskier still. Fuck, he was so good at that. He knew just how to make you putty in his hands.

“Well whatever Daddy needs…” you began, biting on your bottom lip as you looked up at him. 

Dean grunted as he tugged you off the dancefloor and urgently guided you towards the foyeur of the hotel. You waved and called goodnight to anyone you passed that you had spoken to that night and giggled when Dean punched the call button impatiently. His hand snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer.

“Better hope that elevator is empty, sweetheart, I can’t keep my hands off of you for much longer,” he growled. You smirked and giggled again as the doors pinged open and you were greeted with what was, in fact, an empty elevator. You were pulled along behind your husband as he pressed the number you needed, followed by the “close doors” button. They eventually complied and you were alone. Dean’s lips were on you like a rash, spreading over your neck and down across your shoulder as he pinned you to the back wall. 

“Fuck, I need you,” he gasped, grinding his evident erection against you. You mewled and combed your fingers through his hair. The elevator stopped and the doors started to open, but the light above the door indicated this wasn’t your floor. Dean moved off of you, pulling you flush to his side as his hand moved to your back and slipped up under your dress. You both smiled politely at the older couple that got on, and you had to pretend that your husband hadn’t hooked his fingers into your panties and was teasing your slick opening. You cleared your throat, knowing better than to try and stop him when he was like this. You needed it too. 

His fingers edged their way inside as you squeaked and muffled it with a cough. The couple in front of you didn’t turn around at all. Dean’s fingers started to work in and out of you at a teasing rate, curling to nudge your g-spot as he went. You were desperate to make a noise and shuffled on your feet in a desperate bid to take your mind off of Dean’s fingers inside you. But the movement made things much  _ much  _ worse. The doors opened again and the couple got off. Before you were even back in the privacy of the closed lift, Dean had encouraged you to bend over for him as he started to fuck you with his fingers hard.

“Oh, fuck, De,” you gasped, desperately trying to find something to grip onto with your fingers. Dean grunted as he worked.

“So fucking wet, such a fucking whore no matter where we are,” he growled. 

You mewled, nodding your head in agreement. The doors pinged and this time, it was your floor. As your room was the only one on this floor, you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing you. Dean removed his fingers and spanked you hard, causing you to squeal. He gripped a handful of hair from the back of your once perfectly styled hair and moved you into the hallway. Just before you reached the door, he pushed you against the wall, cheek pressed to the wallpaper as his face came inches from yours.

“When we get inside I want you knelt at the end of the bed straight away, mouth open,” he commanded.

“Yes, Sir,” you agreed. Dean groaned, deep and gritty from his chest at your compliance.

“Fuck, sweetheart, Daddy’s gonna fucking destroy you tonight, you have no idea,” he chuckled. You whimpered at his promise and smiled to yourself. You needed this as much as he did. Finding time to be his sub was hard nowadays, so you had to make the most of it when you could. 

“Fuck yes, thank you, Daddy,” you breathed out. 

“That’s right, baby girl,” he purred, grinding his concealed erection against your centre. The friction was enough for you to want to cum already. “Whose are you?” he grunted. 

“Yours, Daddy, I’m yours,” you sighed, “I always will be.” 


End file.
